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EIGHTY 

ORIGUSTAL POEMS; 

SECULAR AND SACRED, 



ASn CHIEFLY ADAPTED 



TO THE TIMES. 

BY 

JOHN McNAIR, D. D. 



"VYliere little's said, 
'Tis sooner read — 
If read by few. 
Or none at all, 
'Tis well we've made 
The book so small. 

Author. 



LANCASTER, PA.; 

JACOB E. BAKE, PUBLISHER, 

No. 6 East King Street. 
1865. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by 

JOHN McNAIR, D. D., 

In the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States, 
in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



Pbarsol & Geist, Printers, 
Lancaster, Pa. 



PREFACE. 



To Poesy we lay no claim — 
('Twere well if others did the same,^ 
But, somehow, as we wrote at leisure, 
These lines assum'd the form of measure. 
If we've made verse that's pure and chaste, 
Well suited to the public taste, 
Pray take it all, and more to boot — 
Concerning taste we'll not dispute. 
But if it be about the sense. 
You feel disturb'd and take offence. 
We freely yield to such displeasure — 
We'll take the sense, and you the measure. 
To prove the thing as false or true, 
Just read this little volume through; 
Perhaps both sense and sound may be 
United in the poetry. 



PART I. 



The design here is to bring to view certain rare men, in 
whose life or death is something peculiar, and therefore 
worthy to be censured or celebrated in verse. 

1. The Eccentric Statesman. 

2. The Murdered President. 

3. Ode to Washington. 

4 The Regiment that Went for the Fee and 
NOT FOR the Field. 

5. Brave Stalwart Men. 

6. Garibaldi and the Pope. 



THE ECCENTRIC STATESMAN. 

♦' Great in life, but fallen in death." 

A curious man resided once 

In old Virginia State; 
Some took liim for a practic'd dunce, 

But others tliouglit liim great. 
He lived completely at Ms ease, 

Remote from noise and strife, 
Amid the lonely forest trees, 

Almost a hermit's life. 
Sometimes he read his chosen books — 

Sometimes expounded law, 
As strange a creature in his looks 

As mortals ever saw. 
The prince of all eccentric folks, 
Was curious John of Roanokes. 

He went to Congress many years, 

And sat in chair of State, 
Among the foremost of his peers 

He was supremely great. 
His voice was bold, but sharp and shrill— 

His face was lean and long, 
And when he spoke, the house was still, 

And mute as mice the throng. 
He sometimes play'd the statesman fair — 

He sometimes play'd the clown, 



THE ECCENTRIC STATESMAN. 

But officers and others there 

Loud cheer'd when he sat down. 
A brighter genius never spoke, 
Than curious John of Eoanoke. 

When, having neither Greek nor grace, 

Some coxcomb thought to rise, 
John put him nicely to his place 

And taught him to be wise. 
When any one was in the dark. 

He gave him wanted light; 
Or if the dupe espous'd the wrong. 

He quickly set him right. 
He was a man of keenest wit — 

Of happiest humor too, 
To answer him in manner fit, 

No mortal man could do. 
He'd play at whist, drink wine and smoke. 
The curious John of Koanoke. 

His tongue was sharp as adder's sting — 

His eye was bright as fire. 
When he his wrath began to fling. 

Men sunk beneath his ire. 
When he arose in Congress days, 

Some folly to deride. 
The house resounded with his praise. 

Drawn out from every side. 
He spoke and then the work was done — 

They wanted nothing more; 
The members laugh' d and had their fun, 

But none would take the floor. 
All fear'd to meet the vengeful strokes 
Of Master John of Roanokes. 



THE ECCENTRIC STATESMAN, 

A Clay could hold tlie largest crowd, 

All subject to his will, 
But Randolph's voice both fierce and loud. 

Made Clay himself be still. 
A Webster had a giant mind 

Glowing with light and fire, 
But still he never felt inclin'd 

To kindle Randolph's ire. 
He shrunk not from his arguments — 

He cared not for his fun, 
But yet he uniformly fear'd 

The lashes of his tongue. 
AVe've had our men of eloquence — 

We've had our men of lore — 
We've had great men in every sense, 

Upon the Congress floor. 
But for strange wit in court and hall, 
This curious John excell'd them all. 

His eloquence was fine indeed. 

When (heated in debate) 
He spoke at time of special need 

In interest of the State. 
From fear of man at once set free, 

His voice would swell so loud, 
It roll'd in tones of majesty. 

Like thunder from the cloud. 
He made the knees of listeners quake, 

And, trembling, seize their hands — 
He made the marble pillars shake 

On which the State House stands. 
He made their cheeks run down with tears- 
He made their passions burn 
With kindling wrath — with jealousies — 



10 THE MURDERED PRESIDENT. 

With love and hate in turn. 
A prodigy and not a hoax, 
Was curious John of Roanokes. 

But when his earthly course was run, 

How sad was his decease! 
No glory cloth' d his evening sun 

To bid him die in peace. 
Remote from turmoil, noise and strife, 

He mourn' d his follies loud. 
When lo! his sun, so .bright in life, 

Now set behind a cloud., 
His eyes in lurid wildness roll'd — 

Despair was on his brow, 
And this the dreadful story told 

Of what the man was now. ' 
"Remorse!" again "Remorse!" he cried, 
And thus this brilliant Statesman died. 



THE MURDERED PRESIDENT. 

Amid the crowded theatre 

The President was found. 
Unconscious of his danger there 

From murderers lurking round. 
0, why a man so strict as he, 

Should theatres allow. 
Remains indeed a mystery 

We can't decipher now. 

Or why a man discreet as he, 
Should venture there that night, 



THE MURDERED PRESIDENT. 1% 

Remains another mystery 

Far hid from human sight. 
But "While it was at evil time, 

Yet there he doubtless went 
Intent upon some good design, 

And not for merriment. 

The action on the stage began 

With fascinating power, 
"Which held the fondly listening house, 

Enchanted for an hour. 
Sometimes the actors nobly spoke — 

Sometimes they sweetly sung, 
Till all the joyful theatre 

AVith loud applauses rung. 

But yet through all this pleasure spell. 

Strange voices in the ear 
Seemed now and then to speak and tell 

Of threat'ning danger near. 
'Tis nine o'clock, a teller cried, 

With voice unusual quite — 
'Tis nine, a number more replied — 

'Tis nine o'clock at night. 

The play went on, and more and more 

The tide of feeling rose, 
As each new scene was acted o'er 

From opening to the close. 
Again the tellers, true to time, 

Cried ten with one consent. 
But few that heard them could divine 

What this strange signal meant. 

Some moments pass'd, then through the crowd 
A murd'rer ru^'d along, 



12 THE MURDERED PRESIDENT. 

And soon a pistol sounding loud, 
Spread terror through the throng. 

The actors paus'd, when lo, a shriek 
Which every feeling shocks, 

Rose through the sounding theatre. 
From one partic'lar box. 

It burst not from a stranger's lips 

But from his gentle wife 
Who saw her honor' d husband pierc'd, 

And trembled for his life. 
The President has fallen here, 

She said with fainting breath; 
'Tis over with him now, I fear 

He's doom'd to speedy death. 

Yes — yes, he's slain, the murd'rer cried, 

These hands have done the deed; 
So through the nation, far and wide, 

Let every tyrant bleed. 
Ay, that the thing, twice told, was true, 

No doubt could now remain. 
Hence silently the crowd withdrew 

In anguish for the slain. 

Forth from that dismal theatre 

(Some trembling yet with fright,) 
They bore the murder' d sage away. 

All mournful in the night. 
With many a pray'r sent up to God — 

With slow and solemn tread, 
They bore him on, while still the blood 

Was oozing from his head. 

Around his couch his noble peers, 
With stricken hearts appear' d 



THE MURDEEED PRESIDENT. 13 

And watcli'd with generous flowing tears, 

The man they all rever'd. 
They watch' d his changing countenance — 

They watcli'd his breathing too — 
They mark'd the beatings of his pulse 

As they grew faint and few. 

They watch' d with anxious listening ears 

To hear him speak again, 
But while they watch' d with sighs and tears, 

They watch' d, alas! in vain. 
Before the sun of opening day 

"Was risen in the East, 
The President had pass'd away — 

His mortal life had ceas'd. 

Abroad the tidings quickly spread 

(Borne on by every gale,) 
Producing through Columbia 

One universal wail. 
The churches in deep mourning hung — 

There holy pray'rs were said. 
And weeping choirs their dirges sung 

In memory of the dead. 

A welcome day of jubilee 

Was now, just now at hand. 
And loudest shouts of victory 

Were ringing through the land. 
Amid this burst of general joy 

The murderer appears 
And turns the joy to heaviness — ' 

The mirth to flowing tears. 

Swift, swift the story sped away — 
From shore to shore it flew, 



14 THE MURDERED PRESIDENT, 

Not only through Columbia, 
But through all Europe too. 

The kings and princes of the earth — 
The great men and the small 

Who knew this statesman's special worth, 
Kow mourn' d his sudden fall. 

Where dire oppression still obtains 

(If such a place there be,) 
The suff'ring captives in their chains 

Bewail' d the tragedy. 
They bitter wept, the good, the brave. 

The generous and the free — 
The man that toiled to give the slave 

His rightful liberty. 

They felt this was a common cause — 

Hence all mankind should bow 
Before the sad calamity 

And be the mourners now. 
And while one blessed human friend 

Was number' d with the dead, 
IP They earnest pray'd that God would send 

Ten thousand in his stead. 

Kot where Potomac's waters run, 

But in the distant West 
Where his eventful life begun, 

They bore him to his rest. 
With solemn pomp, as it was meet, 

Along the crowded way 
They took him to that calm retreat 

To moulder in the clay. 

And when the hour for burial comCj 
It was the ransom' d slave 



THE MURDERED PRESIDENT. 15 

Who felt the deepest while he sung 

The requiem o'er his grave. 
There in his own adopted State, 

Hard by his chosen home, 
This martyr'd man, hoth good and great. 

Now slumbers in the tomb. 

Lo, millions of the human race 

Through onward rolling years 
Will come and fond bedew this place . 

With patriotic tears. 
And if time comes when men will not 

Revere his worthy name, 
Yet angels still will guard the spot 

Where sleeps this man of fame. 

His murderer was sought and found 

And quick despatch' d withal; 
Just where he gave the mortal wound, 

There he received a ball. 
As reckless as a wretch could be 

And proud of shedding blood; 
This monster fell to infamy, 

Accurs'd of man and God. 

Whatever might be his blood or birth, 

He died as murderers do. 
And sunk to moulder in the earth, 

Far hid from human view. 
Till from before Jehovah's face. 

The old creation flies. 
But few will know the resting place 

Where this poor murd'rer lies. 

As for the fallen President, 
It is but just to say 



16 THE MURDESED PRESIDENT. 

No murder black and foul like this 
Has happened in our day. 

But O, his work on earth was done — 
A work divinely blest; 

The fight was fought, the vict'ry won, 
And he retires to rest. 

The change to him and us was great; 

We feel it to our cotet, 
That from the service of the State 

So rare a man is lost. 
But what is our intrinsic loss 

Is his immortal gain; 
In life, he bore the heavy cross — 

In death, felt little pain. 

No more the battle rages now— 

No more the foe withstands, 
The civic wreath is on his brow — 

The palm is in his hands. 
O, patriot father! freedom's son! 

Thy mighty work is o'er. 
Now rest thee like great Washington 

Till time shall be no more. 

Thy wounded body, bright and fair, 

Will then immortal rise 
And everlasting honors wear, 

Methinks, in yonder skies. 
Farewell, farewell, illustrious man! 

Thy bright career is run; 
Few Statesmen in their wisdom can 

Excel what thou hast done. 



ODE TO -WASHINGTON. 17 



ODE TO WASHINGTON. 

Great AVasliington lies fast asleep — 
No more to wake — no more to weep, 
Till on the last rewarding day, 
Ten thousands sleeping in the clay 
Awake, and all-immortal rise 
To live triumphant in the skies. 
Then heUl awake from long repose. 
And rise as He of Calv'ry rose. 
And shine, adorn' d with glory bright, 
Amid the boundless, fadeless light 
Of Heaven's supreme and blest abode, 
Hard seated by the throne of God. 

But now he lies here full at rest. 
No cares distract his peaceful breast; 
He sleeps, the great, the good, the brave. 
All quiet in his lonely grave. 
No more in glitt'ring armor bright, 
He leads our armies to the fight; 
His voice is hushed — his last is breathed — 
His conquering sword's forever sheathed; 
His sun is set— his work is done. 
Earth has no more a Washington. 
He's gone to make for others room — 
He's gone in glory to the tomb. 
He sweetly sleeps the years away. 
While angels come, and angels stay 
To keep with special watchful care, 
The warrior's honor' d sepulchre. 

Our hero needs this calm repose — 
This rest from cares and cruel foes. 



18 ODE TO WASHINGTON. 

He lived in time of greatest need, 
He had his cares and foes indeed. 
He saw the storm of war arise 
And spread around the darkened skies; 
He saw it o'er his country break, 
And felt her strongest pillars shake; 
Then forth he came, commander-chief, 
To breast the storm and work relief. 

While war-clouds flash' d and thunder' d then, 
They sent a host of valiant men 
•^ To undertake the fearful toil 
Of fighting on Canadian soil. 
Drawn there by an imperious call, 
They took St. Johns and Montreal; 
Then tried Quebec, and sad to tell, 
'Twas here that brave Montgomery fell. 
They wept his loss, then turn'd away 
To fight no more in Canada. 

See yonder on Long Island strand, 
Where, nobly fighting hand to hand, 
Two thousand patriots, brave and free, 
Fell in support of liberty. 
Our chieftain, as historians say, 
Wept sorely on that battle day, 
To see his army torn and peePd, 
And scatter'd o'er the crimson'd field — 
To see (while they'd not fought in vainj 
His best, his bravest warriors slain — 
The mighty fallen in their gore 
To rise and fight the foe no more. 

How sad apparent was his fate 

When passing through Kew Jersey State; 



ODE TO WASHINGTON. 19 

His troops, discouraged, fled away. 
Supposing lie had lost the day. 
Three thousand men were all that still 
Stood by their faithful General. 
With these, almost in sad despair, 
He cross' d the icy Delaware; 
Escaping capture, as 'twas meet, 
By rapid flight and long retreat. 

While on the Pennsylvania shore, 
His force was doubled quite and more. 
With large recruits of valiant men, 
He sought the Jersey side agaia. 
He cross' d there in the dead of night, 
Prepared for bold and daring fight, 
And took the Hessians with a stroke, 
Just as the following morning broke. 
And ere six anxious days had pass'd. 
With flying flags and trumpet's blast. 
They stood on Princeton's famous height. 
And put the British host to flight. 
They smote them dreadful to the ground. 
And left them bleeding, dying round. 
Then raised to God and Heaven on high 
The thundering shout of victory. 

Amidst the dangers of that time. 
He met the foe at Brandywine, 
And there engag'd in bloody fight. 
Beginning with the morning light. 
Nor would he once the conflict yield— 
Nor would he quit the battle-field 
Till evening shades came falling round 
And forced both armies from the ground. 



20 ODE TO WASHINGTON. 

'Twas here that Marquis Lafayette, 
With heart and mind on freedom set, 
With soul most brave and arm most strong, 
Appeared, to help our cause along. 
He came our interests to advance. 
With chosen warriors brought from France- 
He came our freedom to maintain, 
Though it should cost a martyr's name — 
He came with sympathizing heart. 
In all our woes to share a part — 
He came to either live or die 
In bold support of liberty. 
This man is to our nation dear, 
His name is fondly cherished here; 
Though others may their friends forget. 
We'll long remember Lafayette. 

But let us turn to Germantown 

Where, looking still for fresh renown, 

Our nation, buoyant, thought to see 

Him gain immortal victory. 

Instead of this, a thing occurr'd. 

The strangest far of which we've heard; 

Too strange to be accounted for 

In annals of Columbian war. 

When fighting hardest, lo, just then I 

There fell upon our struggling men 

A mist so great they could not see 

How to engage the enemy. 

Fill'd with confusion and with fright, 

The army broke amidst the fight. 

Some thought it was from God, and meet 

To sound aloud a quick retreat. 

Some still fought on and tried again, 



ODE TO WASHINGTON. 21 

But all their efforts now were vain; 

They felt it to tlieir grief and cost, 

The fortune of the clay was lost. 

When this engagement first begun, 

The vict'ry hailed to Washington, 

And all suppos'd beyond a doubt. 

He would the British forces rout 

And drive them scatter'd, torn, and peel'd. 

Wild flying from the battle-field. 

But ere one single hour had pass'd. 

The prospect was so overcast 

With clouds and gloom, that all could see 

Their foes would gain the victory. 

'Twas thus the battle took a turn, 

Which made the General's bowels yearn 

To see, as to the charges led, 

His veteran soldiers falling dead — 

To see the chargers, bold and staid, 

Repuls'd at every charge they made — 

To see the foe, at every round. 

Still farther, faster, gaining ground. 

And hear from British trumpets peal'd 

The notes of triumph o'er the field. 

It was a luckless change indeed, 

Which made a thousand bosoms bleed 

To see what seem'd at first complete, 

Now tending to a sad defeat — 

To see what seem'd before so fair, 

Now closing up in failure there. 

Well he remembers Monmouth, too, 
How fierce the whistling bullets flew 
From side to side on that great day. 
So glorious to Columbia. 



g2 ODE TO WASHINGTON. 

Well he remembers how tliey came 
Firm marching to the battle game — 
How quick and constant was the fire 
Of armies meeting in their ire — 
How fearful was the vivid blaze 
Of battle bursting to the gaze 
Of angels looking from their height, 
Amaz'd and trembling at the sight. 
Well he remembers how the sound 
Of musket volleys shook the ground — 
How loud and louder — more and more 
Roll'd on the cannon's dismal roar, 
Till o'er that shaking, quaking plain 
Lay fathers, sons, and kindred slain; 
All perished in their blood and gore. 
Now fallen to arise no more! 
And when the evening sun was set, 
They urged the conflict fiercer yet. 
" Fight on," was the commanding word, 
And so they did, with sword to sword; 
The earth resounding with the peal 
Of steel loud ringing upon steel — 
Each man contending at his best. 
Each soldier bleeding at his breast. 
And all resolved the day to gain, 
Or die upon that gory plain. 
At length, the darkness of the night 
Compell'd the hosts to quit the fight. 
The British fled with awe profound, 
From off the blood-stain' d battle ground: 
But Washington continued there. 
Not conquer' d, but the conqueror! 
Prepared, as soon as morning came, 
To fight again in freedom's name, 



ODE TO WASHINGTON. 

And gain, if it sliould needful be, 
Another glorious victory. 

'Twas thus, with patriot feelings warm, 
He breasted long the dreadful storm. 
He saw it rise, he saw it fall. 
He met it at his Country's call — 
He bore it on from year to year, 
'Mid interchanging hope and fear — 
He bore it when it awful burst. 
And, wild and raging, did its worst 
In battles fought on many a field. 
To make our patriot chieftain yield. 
He bore it till it pass'd away 
Exhausted from Columbia, 
And brought what millions waited for — 
The end of this unseemly war.* 
Then up he rais'd his cheerful eye, 
And saw around a tranquil sky. 
Now all was beauteous and serene. 
Without a cloud to intervene. 
The thunder peals had ceased to roar, 
The flashing lightning play'd no more. 
The storm roll'd off far to the East, 
And all its mighty roaring ceased, 
And this immortal patriot band, 
Who 80 long suffered for their land 
Beheld her now, both great and free — 
Establish' d in her liberty. 

At length, when half his life was spent. 
They made him the first President 
Of that great country he had blest 

*A w&r between kindred and brotbers. 



24 ODE TO WASHINGTON. 

With holy peace and wonted rest. 

He was its friend and father, too, - 

Still ready in his place to do 

Whatever might be just and wise 

To make her wondrous in the eyes 

Of all the nations of the earth — 

A new republic great in birth, 

The foremost mortals ever saw 

In force of arms, in love of law, 

In science, trade, and all beside, 

Which fosters generous, noble pride — 

A land of every good possessed, 

Far spreading to the distant west, 

A land of high undying name, 

A land of great, prodigious fame — 

A land where mightiest works are done, 

The land of God and Washington. 

Had he been like Kapoleon Third, 
And ask'd the thing, though most absurd, 
They would have found a way somehow 
To put a crown upon his brow. 
They would have bold proclaimed him king, 
And made these States United ring 
With myriads loudly shouting for 
Great Washington as Emperor. 
Instead of this, he nobly stood 
Decided for the public good; 
He went with head and heart and hand 
For a Republic in the land. 
' He would not live in high estate. 
He would not be a potentate; 
He bade his army all. Farewell, 
The soldier and the General. 



ODE TO WASHINGTOX. 25 

He bid them liaste to private life, 
And keep remote from noise and strife; 
He bid tliem seek, wliile tliey should live, 
The blessings peace and freedom give. 
He handed back his glitt'ring sword 
To that great nation he ador'd; 
He bid them keep it in their sight, 
Suspended high and shining bright, 
And use it, as their need should be. 
In brave defence of liberty. 
He was a man of humblest mind — 
He every public post resign VI, 
And meekly took his place again 
Among the private sons of men; 
And there he lived, and there he died. 
Close by Potomac's rolling tide; 
And there in humble state he sleeps, 
While o'er him still the nation weeps 
In memory of her noblest son, 
The great, the gifted Washington. 

No more he toils with ceaseless care 

("When almost sunk in dread despair,) 

To find out some successful way 

To save his loved America. 

No more he prays, through stormy nights, 

To God, to save the nation's rights— 

To send them help by land and sea 

To gain the wanted victory. 

No more he mounts his fiery steed, 

And flies away with lightning speed 

To meet some bold invading men 

And drive the spoilers back again. 

No more he sees the bay' nets brigiit, 

B 



- 26 ODE TO WASHINGTON. 

All glitt'ring in the dazzling light; 
Nor feels at heart the clire alarms, 
I^or gives the cry, " To arms, To arms." 
'^o more he shouts amid the noise 
Of battle great, " Come on, brave boy^,'' 
We^ll conquer yet before we cease, 
And leave oui country blest with peace. 
These trying scenes with him are o'er, 
He mingles in the fight no more; 
His labors, sufferings, all are past — 
He's sunk to wanted rest at last. 

He sleeps like others — just the same, 
Unconscious of his boundless fame. 
He hears not what loud cannons roar 
To spread that fame from shore to shore- 
He hears not what shrill trumpets sound 
To spread it all the world around. 
He knows not what pseans are sung 
To him in almost every tongue — 
How children, with untold delight, 
Speak out his name at morn and night — 
How wond'ring millions shout and sing, 
And make the heav'ns stupendous ring 
With his most just and worthy praise. 
Which, under God, will last always. 
He^ sees not what tall statues they 
Prepare for him, as well they may — 
What monuments, immense and high. 
They raise immortal to the sky. 
To show to ages long to come 
The glorious vict'ries he has won. 
He sees not how the good and brave 
Come bending o'er his honor' d grave, 



THE REGIMENT, ETC. 2>t 

And weep at thought of him who lies 

Here, hid indeed from mortal eyes. 

But lies, the great man and renown'd. 

With thousand, thousand blessings crown' d— 

Yes, lies and sleeps, the mighty dead, 

With matchless glory round his head. 

He knows not how the great and small 

Come far, come often, and come all 

To see, with wonder and delight, 

What still remains on Vernon's height 

That this blest man has left behind, 

In whom all virtues were combin'd, 

And tread again where once he trod— • 

The great, the good, the man of God. 



THE REGIMENT THAT WENT FOR THE 
FEB AND NOT FOR THE FIELD. 

The regiment was the finest far 
That rose and arm'd there for the war; 
'Twas gallant, noble, sprightly, fair, 
Few others could with it compare. 
It was the pick of all the State, 
Some gather' d early— others late; 
It was the flower— it was the prime 

Of furnished at the time 

When all she had was in demand 
To save the sinking, suff'ring land. 
The lawyers, doctors, school men, too. 
The politicians, pure and true, 
The Union Leaguers, one and all. 



38 THE REGIMENT, ETC. 

The young, tKe old, the great and small, 
The wise, the rich, the blest and good, 
The holy man who toil'd for God^ 
AH left their homes and went that day 
To fight and save America! 
The father and his sons were how 
Amid these ranks; they quit the plough — 
They left their busy toils and trades 
To bold repel those rebel raids. 
Which were producing so much fear 
Around our more expos' d frontier. 

The sister's feelings, warm and strong. 
Were to her brothers fondly drawn — 
She loved them well, but it is true 
She loved her country dearly too. 
She, therefore, said, "Go, brothers, go, 
And shrink not at the sight of woe — 
Go, nobly fight — go, nobly die 
To crush this dire conspiracy." 
The mother's only son was there; 
She gave him up in fervent prayer 
To go, at every cost, and be 
A firm support to liberty. 
The gen'rous husband, brave and tall, 
Stood chief-like with these soldiers all. 
Of thousands round he'd been the boast— 
A legion he, a mighty host. 
To stop foul treason's pois'nous breath, 
And make it yield to right or death. 
The wife beheld him standing there- 
She fondly said, "Farewell, my dear." 
To give him up had trijed her sore, 
She loved" hlm^ but the country more;' 



tHE REGIMENT, IpTC. ^9 

And hence, upon that solemn day, 
She gave her dearest friend away, 
Expecting sure, when next they'd meet, 
To see him in his winding sheet. 

The hopes of many thousand men 
Were centred in that regiment then. 
They follow'd it with prayers and tears — 
They follow'd it with hopes and fears: 
The expectations through the State, 
Repos'd in it, were large and great. 
They looked with feelings none can tell, 
To see it represent them well; 
They look'd to see it in the sight 
Of all the world reflect its light; 
They look'd to see it plan and do 
What few beside were equal to; 
They look'd to see it strike the blows. 
Which would confound their rebel foes, 
(While seeking to destroy the peace, Jl 
And force them from tliat work to cease. 

These soldiers went — they stay'd — they play'd — 
They figur'd well on dress parade — 
They talk'.d from morning dawn till night 
Which cause was wrong and which was right. 
Exempt alike from fear and care, 
They spent much time in pleasure thero; 
They frequent stood to guard the stores, 
Which lay upon adjoining shores; 
They sometimes went to ope the way 
To camps where distant regiments lay; 
They went and came at bugle call, 
BiiJ, nt'er a lattle fougTit at all. 



'mta REGIMENT, E1?C. 

At length, when nine months had been spent. 
They left the field, the drill, the tent, 
And hasten' d home with joy to tell 
That they, while there, behaved so well. 

When forth to war battalions go 
To make a fair imposing show, 
And not to meet and quell the foe, 

'Tis false and unavailing. 
Or, when they simply go for pay, 
And not to brave the battle day, 
Reluctant all the while to stay, 

Our cause must still be failing. 

But when they go like valiant men — 

All purposed to return again 

When troublers yield, and not till then, 

Our cause will fail us never. 
They'll make the hills and valleys sound 
With noise of battle ringing round. 
And bring fell treason to the ground, 

To rise no more forever. 

Then States with States, throughout the land. 
Will all, in faith and friendship, stand 
Combin'd in one harmonious band, 

Which naught on earth can sever. 
The nation's flag will proudly fly 
Triumphant through the beauteous sky, 
And long and loud will be the cry, 

' 'Columbia lives forever. " 



BRAVE STALWART MEN. 3l 



BRAVE STALWART MEN. 

We^■e oft been told by saint and sage— 
We've read it from the Sacred Page, 
That there was once a wondrous age 
Of long and healthful living. 

Of early death men had no fears, 
They lived almost a thousand years, 
As plainly from the book appears 
Of early Scripture history. 

So, in the time when Greece was great. 
Fair Sparta was a ftimous State, 
Because her sons ne'er drank nor ate 
What hurt their constitutions. 

We've read the story of the band 
That march'd with swords and spears in han<!, 
To meet the foe and save the land 
When Xerxes was invading. 

Six hundred soldiers were the most 
Composing that immortal host, 
Which stood for fight upon the coast 

Where Persian hordes were trending. 

There in Thermopylae's narrow strait, 
The captain and his band did wait 
To meet whate'er might be their fate, 
In fighting for their cotmtry. 

Three million men, historians say, 
Those lusty Spartans met that day, 



33 BRAVE STALWART MEN. 

Nor would tliey turn their backs till they 
Had stopp'd the bold invasion. 

'Twas so with Scotia's noble race 
Of lofty mien and dauntless face; 
These men, for power to stand or chase, 
Have never yet been beaten. 

We've heard it often, often said, 
The Scots, whom Bruce and Wallace led, 
Rank first among the mighty dead, 
Whose fame can never perish. 

No matter when or where they wrought, 
No matter when or where they fought, 
They have been long and justly thought 
The prime of human species. 

They lived upon the plainest fare — 
At home, abroad, and everywhere; 
And thus they took unceasing care 
Of health, to make it lasting. 

So, with our sturdy fathers, too — 
Of human kind there have been few 
Who took so much in hand to do 
As these illustrious mortals. 

They fought with savage hordes around, 
They fell'd great forests to the ground 
And made the hills and vales resound 
With noise of their industry. 

When there was need, they would be free- 
They met the foe on land and sea, 
And gain'd immortal victory, 

Whith made them ever famous. 



GAEIBALDI XKD THE POPE. i 

There ne'er has been since time begun 
A race of men beneath the sun, 
Who have so fast to glory run, 
As these, our honor'd fathers. 

With studied care they sought to be, 
In principle and practice free 
From vile debasing luxury — 

And thus they lived and prosper' d. 

We hear a voice, which speaks aloud 
From loved ones wrapt in death's pale shroud, 
Saying to us, and all the crowd. 
Go children and do likewise. 

Go, with your arms uprais'dand strong- 
Go, with your swords all bravely drawn— 
On hill, and field, and shore, and lawn. 
Defend your native coimtry. 



GARIBALDI AND THE POPE. . 

Written at the time of Garibaldi's Military Successes in Italy. 
Can we concede the thing one hour 

Of Papal delegation — 
That any man's endow' d with powov 
To rule in our salvation? 

He says he fills St. Peter's chair— 

Of this there is no doubt; 
But if that holy man were there 

Perhaps he'd turn him out. 



34 GARIBALDI AND THE POPE. 

He says he is a prophet great, 
Endow'd with special grace, 

To act in things of Church and State 
For all the human race. 

He says, forsooth, he holds the keys 

Of everlasting fate, 
To free admit, or, if he please. 

Shut out as reprobate. 

Wake, sons of It'ly, all awake, 
And tell your grave dissensions 

From king or priest, who dares to make 
These arrogant pretensions. 

Behold, in abject, servile state. 
You've lived a long probation; 
Now strike and make this day the date 
Of blest emancipation. 

The God of Heav'n has form'd the plan- 
Some one must bear it through, 

And Garibaldi is the man 
Who has this work to do. 

,- Great conqueror, move on — move on! 
The world now waits to see 
Your armies at the gates of Rome, 
To give Rome liberty. 

Fear not, if Austria should oppose. 
And great Napoleon, too; 

The God who fought when Luther rose 
Will surely fight for you. 

Then wilt thou, Garibaldi, fail 
To do the thing that's meet, 



GARIBALDI AND THE POPE. 35 

And leave this cause of such avail 
To end in sad defeat? 

Say, "wilt thou yet to bad advice 

In hapless moments yield — 
Throw down thy arms in cowardice 

And basely quit the field ? 

Wilt thou ere long prepare to fly 

And hie thee home to sleep, 
And leave these sons of Italy 

In bondage still to weep ? 

Wilt thou become a truckler yet, 

And play a double game — 
Thy past successes all forget, 

And lose thy -well-earn' d fame? 

Be prudent, man, and valiant too — 

Toil on from sun to sun, 
Nor cease till thou hast carried through 

This glorious work begum 

Stand up before a gazing world 

And show thyself a man — 
With flags of freedom wide unfurl'd. 

Lead on the army van. 

Set to — set to, with all thy might — 

Let men and angels see 
As heretofore, so now, the right 

Must gain the victory. 



PART II. 



These pieces were composed on different occasions oc- 
curring through the last five years, and on subjects sug- 
gested by the occasions. They were intended to inspire 
patriotism — especially love to the Union cause and the 
Federal Government. 

1. Secession and Civil War. 

2. Christian Patriotism. 

3. The Crowning Day, 

4. Northern Adventures. 

5. Well Meant. 

6. Union Song of Victory. 

7. Our National Flag. 

8. National Honor. 

9. Star of Hope. 

10. No Country Like Ours. 



SECESSION AND CIVIL WAR. 

Written on the first day of National Fasting after /he War with 
the South began. 

See our Eagle's pinions shorn — 
See tlie Stripes all rudely torn, 
Wliile the dimmed Stars piteous mourn 
The fortunes of the countr}-. 

From our gallant ships that sail, 
Slow and solemn in the gale, 
Now and then there comes a wail 
Of mourning for the country. 

Hark! along each river shore 
How the troubled waters roar; 
Daily, nightly, sighing o'er 
The deeply injur'd country. 

See our matrons lowly bow'd — 
Mantled in a sable shroud — 
Sighing deeply, sobbing loud, 
In anguish for the country. 

See their bosoms rent with care — 
See them agonize in pray'r — 
Pleading still with God, to spare 
The bleeding, bleeding country. 

Spirits of those mighty men, 
Now returning back again 



40 SECESSION AND CIVIL WAR. 

To the place tliey perish' d, when 
The land was once invaded; 

Cry from off the battle ground, 
In a wild and wailing sound, 
To the gathering crowds around 
To rally for the country. 

Hark! upon yon Southern shore, 
How the deaf'ning cannons roar 
Pealing, pealing more and more, 
Fortells destruction coming. 

See the lightning's vivid flash. 
Through the low'ring war clouds dash- 
Threat'ning with a mighty crash 
The fall of this Republic. 

Millions rising in their might. 
Ready for the dreadful fight, 
Watch the hour by day and night, 
For bloody, bloody action. 

Seldom since the world began 
Was there such a deep-laid plan 
E'er devised by fiend or man. 
To work out death and ruin. 

But the plan will signal fail: 
Should both earth and hell assail, 
All will be of no avail 

To bring to pass their puri^ose. 

Let these rebels madly rage — 
Let them furious warfare wage, 
Yet there will remain a page 

On which to write their downfall. 



SECESSION AND CIVIL WAR. 41 

Some kind angel from above, 
Hovering o'er us like a dove, 
Will in constant covenant love 
Defend when cannons rattle. 

Yes, the plighted heav'nly powers, 
When the storm of vengeance lowers, 
Will, through all these dang'rous hours. 
Maintain our cause in battle. 

Up, then, to the field repair — 
Neither blood nor treasure spare — 
Fight till you have bravely there 
O'erthrown this curs'd rebellion. 

Strike to set the captives free — 
Strike again for liberty — 
Let these troublers plainly see 
They can be easy beaten. 

Time will come to think, relent — 
Days will come when they'll repent, 
And perhaps with one consent 
Return and join the Union. 

Joyful songs will then arise — 
Earth re-echo with the cries: 
" Great Columbia never dies — 
Her pillars stand unbroken." 

Built upon a solid rock — 
Great indeed must be the shock, 
Which can break the mighty lock 
That keeps this plighted Union. 



42 CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISJI. 



CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 

Christians must be always ready- 
To take hold of everything 

Which, when follow' d close and steady 
Will the promis'd blessings bring. 

They must rise and teach the youthful 
How to walk in noble ways — 

How to be both wise and truthful 
In the morning of their days. 

Christian men must take our meetings 

For devotion, to their care — 
They must come with holy greetings 

To support them everywhere. 
They must join in prayer and praises 

In the churches, day by day — 
They must give us light that blazes 

To conduct us on our way. 

Christian men must save the nation — 

They are call'd to do the deed — 
They must bring us great salvation 

In the urgent time of need. 
They must come and fill the places 

On the land and on the sea, 
Where, to show their christian graces, 

It is needful they should be. 

Christian men must join the army 
And be soldiers brave and strong, 

O, such soldiers always charm me ^ 
When I see them pass along. 



eflRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. 43 

They must boldly go to battle — 

They must mingle in the fight, 
And while thund'ring cannons rattle, 

Pray to God to speed the right. 

Christian men must take the Navy — 

Truth assures us such as these 
Are the men to guide it bravely 

To the vict'ries of the seas. 
They must promptly man each vessel — 

They must pace it to and fro, 
While in fervent pray'r, they wrestle 

For success where'er they go. 

Christian men must visit stations 

Where the sick and wounded lie, 
Taking with them preparations 

To restore them, lest they die. 
They must go where duty calls them, 

And proceed in faith and speed. 
Not regarding what befalls them 

In an urgent time of need. 

Christians must be up and doing 

On the land and on the sea, 
Always planning and pursuing 

Schemes of great philanthropy. 
They must keep their lights all burning — 

They must make their efforts tell ; 
Had not Gideon's soul been yearning, 

Palestine had surely fell. 

Christian men must give their treasure 
To supply the public need, 



H CSRISTIAN PATRIOTISM, 

And forego both home and pleasure 
Till the suffering nation's freed 

Frorn the miseries which attend her 
In this fratricidal war — 

Till her God is pleas' d to send her 
That sweet peace she's fighting for. 

Christian men must not be doting 

On some idols at their homes^ 
But arise and do the voting 

When the time for duty comes. 
They must out and lead the party 

As it moves in party strife, 
And by actions wise and hearty, 

Seek to give the nation life. 

Christian men should mostly rule us- 

Men who are both good and great, 
And in wisdom rightly school us 

For the service of the State. 
Then will intrigue and corruption, 

Vice and folly mainly cease, 
And instead of fell destruction, 

All the land be bless' d with peace. 

Christian men must never falter 

In the c ause they know is right. 
Truth and duty cannot alter 

In the Great Creator's sight. 
They must then stand firmly to it, 

Be the trial what it may— 
They must persevere and do it 

Till they've fully won the day. 
Thus with head and heart and hand, 

They must work to' saTe tlie land. 



THE CROWNING DAY. 45 



THE CROWNING DAY. 

Written at the time of our reverses around Fredericksburg in 
the Spring of '63. 

Whate'er we are (if good the case) 
We are by all-sufficient grace. 
Then let us trust to grace the more, 
It is a rich and boundless store 
Of mercy sent in matchless love 
To help us timely from above. 
In- every work we undertake, 
Both for our own and others' sake, 
'Twill strengthen us as nothing can 
Beside this grace support a man. 
'Twill make us brave as Caesar was, 
And patient like the man of Uz. 
'Twill make us wise and mighty too— 
'Twill make us great in all we do. 
'Twill make us calm in danger's hour — 
'Twill make us just in use of power— 
'Twill quell our anguish, dry our tears- 
Resolve our doubts, suppress our fears— 
'Twill show us, in the bright' ning sky, 
The star of hope to cheer the eye — 
'Twill lead us in a prosperous way 
And bring at last the crowning day. v 

80, in the war our fathers waged, 
Witji heads and hearts and hands engaged, 
To free the land they lev' d so.,well ' 
From curs'd designs and .plots of hell. 
'Tyras not of glory once. they thoughtr^ ,. 
'twas not for power or fame they fought— 



46 THE CROWNING DAY. 

'Twas not for mirthful life and ease — 
'Twas not for treasure on the seas — 
'Twas not for noble blood and birth, 
Nor yet for conquests in the earth, 
They grasp' d the sword and took the field, 
Resolv'dto die but not to yield. 
'Twas for the right to speak and tell 
How they should live, where they should dwell- 
How sing their songs, how offer prayers — 
How regulate their own affairs 
And manage all things small and great. 
As sovereign rulers of the State. 
'Twas for the right, when so inclin'd, 
To speak the feelings of their mind — 
To be consulted — give consent 
In framing laws of government. 
'Twas for the right to have a choice 
In things elective, yea, a voice 
So loud, distinctive, bold and clear. 
That men must heed as well as hear. 
A right to say when war and peace 
Should each begin, or promptly cease — 
A right enjoy'd since time began. 
To be that thing we call a man. 
'Twas for such precious rights as these 
They took their axes, fell'd the trees; — 
They took and kept in name of God, 
The sacred soil on which they trod. 

So, for these same dear native rights, 
They stood and bled upon the heights 
Of lands which long in wildness lay 
Through famous North America. 
Sometimes they fought like bravest nicis 



THE CROWNING DAY. 47 

And gain'd tliem an immortal name. 

They oft advanced upon their foes 

And drove them back with heaviest blows, 

And made them feel, (God be ador'd,) 

The heel was better than the sword. 

Their faith was often sharp assail' d 

When Britons in the war prevailed — 

Their souls were often sorely tried 

When generous help was stern deny'd. 

The scene was sometimes spread with gloom 

So deep and dark, there was no room 

To hope for any better day 

Till years of toil had paesM away. 

But calm and firm still there they stood, 

True to their covenant and to God. 

Uncrush'd, uncheck'd by any fear, 

They yet resolv'd to persevere — 

Not leave the work but half-way done, 

Which had so justly been begun. 

It is so in this present war. 
All we have wish'd and waited for 
Has not been fully gained, indeed, 
A thing in which we're all agreed. 
But shall we, therefore, false maintain 
Success is hopeless, fruitless, vain, 
And in temptation's trying hour, 
Disgraceful yield to tempting power, 
Till we such honor' d trust betray 
As makes a nation lose its day? 
Say, is this war a thing so slight 
It must be ended in a night? 
Or is it yet a thing so grave, , 
There is no power at all to save? 



48 THE CROWNING DAY. 

Must this whole work be promptly done 
Between the morn and evening sun, 
And, unless done in one short day, 
Be thence forever put away? 
Oh, Where's our courage, where's our zeal, 
And where the love we all should feel 
For this dear land which gave us birth — 
The fairest far that's known on earth? 
Have we forgot the vows we took 
When Sumter fell in flames and smoke. 
How oft we then most solemn said 
(In sacred memory of the dead,) 
That let the time be e'er so long, 
"We'd full repay that daring wrong? 
If right be right and naught besides — 
If God in righteousness abides, 
'Tis plainly theirs, stern justice saith. 
To choose the right or take the death. 
'Tis ours to make this doctrine stand 
Supreme and sovereign o'er the land. 

Why then discourag'd — why cast down? 

The greater cross, the brighter crown — 

The mightiest works we have to do 

Bring sweetest pleasure when they're through. 

Our duty's plain, our course is clear 

To stand to right and persevere. 

The more adventur'd in the strife 

The greater honors gain'd for life, 

For death, and ages yet to be — 

For boundless immortality. 

Admit that brothers' sacred blood 
Has flow'd in torrents like a flood 



THE CROWNING DAY. 49 

And stain' d with, dismal crimson gore, 
This suff'ring land from shore to shore. 
Admit that myriads have been slain 
And myriads more the cause to gain — 
Admit whole navies have been burn'd 
And cities half to ruin turn'd; 
Admit vast millions have been spent 
Already by the government — 
Admit that ruins, dark and wide. 
Are spreading round on every side 
To mar the land through future years 
And draw from eyes the bitt'rest tears. 
Shall we, regardless of this cost. 
Give up the cause and say, 'Tis lost? 
Shall we, when half the fighting's o'er. 
Fly from the field to fight no more — 
From what remains, retreat, recoil, 
And throw away whole years of toil? 
Shall we, when half the work is done, 
Stop short beneath a noontide sun, 
And see that sun, oh dreadful sight! 
Go down in dark tempestuous night, 
And leave us on this western shore 
A nation sunk to rise no more? 
"Where is there one true-hearted man 
Who now approves of such a plan? 
Where is there one true patriot found 
Who ventures now to take this ground? 
The government must be sustain' d — 
The sovereignty of law maintain'd, 
And subjects all be made to see 
They must respect " The powers that be." 

Then let us rally, one and all, 
c 



50 THE CKOWNING DAT. 

New rally at our country's call; 

With minds firm set and feelings steel' d, 

Eetake and keep the battle field. 

Let us with armor glitt'ring bright, 

Stand up by millions to the fight; 

And millions more, if needed be, 

To gain the wanted victory. 

It will not do to hesitate; 

The time has pass'd for mere debate. 

The thing we must have' at this day 

Is fighting — cost just what it may; 

'Nor can we hope the war will cease 

Until they're forc'd to terms of peace. 

One thing which common sense demands, 
Is faith and patience in our plans. 
The rebels may succeed at times — 
They may be prospering in their crimes; 
'T would not be strange if it were so, 
The thing has been long, long ago. 
They may a stubborn front maintain 
And now and then a vict'ry gain. 
But all this seeming well-done work 
Will naught avail — they cannot shirk 
Dread judgments coming thick and fast 
To crush their cherish' d hopes at last. 
Unless they're aided from abroad. 
In fancied fairness or in fraud, 
'Tis plain as sun-light in the sky 
They soon mast famish, faint and die. 

But Union men and their blest cause. 
Sustain' d by heav'n's unchanging laws, 
Will gain support in every clime 



THE CROWNING DAY. 51 

And stand renown'd till end of time. 

Nor will their work on earth be done 

Till time expires, and yonder sun 

Goes down in darkness and in blood, 

And brings the last great day of God — 

When rebels, patriots, masters, slaves. 

Will rise immortal from their graves. 

And hasten to the chosen place 

Where he appoints to judge the race. 

Then questions long disputed here 

Will be to men and angels clear. 

The opening of eternal light 

Will show what's wrong — will show what's right, 

And things now left in deep despair 

Will all be fitly settled there. 

Then let us rise and onward go — 
Our cause defeated — that's not so; 
Our cause is firm, our way is clear, 
Advancing steady year by year. 
We're gaining on the Southern boys — 
They make their brags, a fruitless noise — 
They fight like Indians half conceal' d, 
We want them on the open field. 
And there, unless they flee away. 
We'll gain a bright triumphant day. 
If oft they've spoil' d us heretofore. 
We'll spoil them then immensely more — 
If oft they've conquer'd in the past, 
Yet right will win the day at last. 
'Tis like the Christian warfare much. 
The work in all its parts is such. 
That grace, to make the best display, 



63 NOETHEEN ADVENTUEES. 

Must let the evil liave its way, 
In all sucli cases as will tend 
To kill it outright in the end. 



NORTHERN ADVENTURES 

OF NAPOLEON TO RUSSIA AND GENERAL LEE TO PENN- 
SYLVANIA. 

Written almost immediately before the battle of Gettysburg. 

The snow was falling deep around — 
The wind hlew bleak and cold that day, 

And as they march' d, no trumpet sound 
Was heard to cheer them on their way. 

Now slow these suff 'ring soldiers mov'd, 
With Moscow's glitt'ring spires in view; 

At every step they took they prov'd 
How staunch they were, how brave and true. 

But suddenly, as near they came, 
CMid countless wild and frantic cries,) 

They saw the city wrapt in flame 
And perishing before their eyes. 

This was a last, a desp'rate deed 

Perform' d at an ill-fated hour. 
That by the act she might be freed 

From great Napoleon's grasping power. 

The warriors stood and trembling gazed 
Upon the flames as wide they spread, 

The more the conflagration blazed. 
The more their hopes were stricken dead. 



NORTHERN ADVENTURES. 53 

Without a shelter from the blasts 
Which blew so wild and fiercely there, 

They felt themselves outdone at last, 
And yielded up to sad despair. 

The God who made them only knows 
How loud they shriek' d, how deep they sigh'd 

AVhen, struggling in cold winter snows, 
They sunk exhausted, groan'd and died. 

They could no more each other greet — 

No more, in turn, each other save; 
The snow was now their winding sheet, 

And there they found a common grave. 

Their prowess was supremely great. 
But here they ventur'd to their cost; 

They saw and felt it, when too late, 
The prize was gone — the army lost. 

Far o'er those distant, dreary plains, 
Some sad memorials still are found 

Of this great army's last remains. 
Now mould' ring there beneath the ground. 

When Moscow sunk in burning fire 

So briskly fanned by ether breath; 
The bursting flames rose high and higher 

To light them to the shades of death. 

They were the bravest of all men — 
They gain'd indeed a world-wide fame, 

But they will never rise again 
To spread the terror of their name. 

They set their banners to the gale — 
They bid the Russian wilds farewell; 



54 NORTHERN ADVENTURES. 

But few return' d to tell the tale 
Of liow tliey 'died wlien Moscow fell; 

They met the foe, they took the prey — 
They conquer' d Europe in their might, 

But dreadful was the hapless day 
They went to Russian climes to fight. 

Lo ! here we have a sim'lar case 
Of warriors marching to the place 
Where though they tread with cautious feet, 
They'll meet at last a sad defeat. 

They form indeed a mighty host — 
They strength and courage justly boast — 
They march with banners flying high, 
But march in pomp and pride to die. 

Behold, a storm is gath'ring fast. 
We see — we feel the coming blast, 
With awful voice it roars aloud 
Like thunder from the distant cloud. 

'Tis not a storm of hail or snow 
Which bids this host no farther go; 
With trumpet peals and rattling drums, 
It is the battle shock that comes. 

Perhaps, before another sun 
Goes down, the strife will have begun, 
And who that ventures there can say 
That he'll survive this battle day. 

Oh! desp'rate warriors — madden'd men! 
Before your hosts return again, 
You'll doubtless feel it to your cost, 
The things you've sought have all been lost. 



WELL MEANT TO THE MEN OF THE SOUTH. 55 

You've wander' d far, too far from home — 
You've wander'd where 'tis death t# roam, 
And long you'll rue the game you've play'd 
In venturing on this Northern raid. 



WELL MEANT TO THE MEN OF THE SOUTH, 

Written after the Battles of the Wilderness. 

Whenever the South is the theme of discourse, 

You join in discussion with fervor and force — • 

You stand up and speak out vehemently for 

The men of the South as the men for the war. 

You seem to proclaim it with special delight 

That nature and training have formed you for fight — ■ 

That one is as firm as the rock or the tree — 

Another as fierce as the lion can be — 

That all are for battle, for rushing and raid, 

As daring a people as God ever made. 

You tell us, exulting, what wonders you've done — 

What conflicts you've ventur'd, what vict'ries you've 

won — 
What heights you've ascended, what dangers you've 

braved — 
What foes you have slaughter' d, what friends you have 

saved. 
Now what you have gain'd by such vauntings as these 
We leave for all nations to judge as they please; 
The proof of your greatness must certainly rest 
On what you've accomplish' d when put to the test. 
There once was a dog of such fierceness and fire 
The sight of another dog kindled his ire — 
'Twas his to be fighting, and fight Towser would, 



56 WELL MEANT TO THE MEN OP THE SOUTH. 

Whatever might follow, for evil or good. 

This bully one dark day broke loose from his chain, 

(With madness and fury disturbing his brain,) 

He challeng'd a conflict and quickly espied 

A tiger advancing up close by his side; 

The dog look'd suspicious, but thought he must try — 

Adventm'e a battle and conquer or die. 

The fight was begun — the dog did his best — 

Kough handled and bleeding, he frankly confessed, 

Instead of now making the tiger his prey, 

'Twas plenty for him to get out of the way. 

You seem to excel in profoundness of mind. 

In that you've search' d it completely, and find 

That bond-servants now are and ever must be 

The prop of a State which is perfectly free. 

Sure none but civilians of calibre great 

Would venture on teaching what you've taught of late — 

That States which have freely and solemnly swore 

To act in conjunction with twenty-two more, 

May break from such Union just when they think best, 

And leave to dark chances the fate of the^rest. 

If this be your doctrine, come tell us, what way 

A nation confed'rate can stand for a day? 

If this be your doctrine, then why do you call 

Your States and your people Confed'rate at all? 

We love to give honor to whom it is due — 

Great honor or cursing is coming to you 

For teaching all mortals, by word and by deed, 

If yielding don't suit them, they've but to secede 

And set up some government form of their own, 

Where nothing exists as a chief corner stone. 

But part after part may secede from the whole, 

Till nothing is left it of body or soul. 



WELL MEANT TO THE MEN OF THE SOUTH. 5'i' 

Long, long will your course iu another thing, yet, 
Be look'd at and thought of; men cannot forget 
The lessons you've taught to the great and the small — 
To kingdoms and nations and governments all. 
That if, peradventure, a people should be 
Depriv'd of some rights which belong to the free, 
They need not recur to the Law for redress — 
To government institutes, paper, or press — 
They need not repair to the Council or Court — 
They've nothing to do but to fire on the Fort — 
They've nothing to do but to rise in one day 
And sweep the old flag of the nation awaj' — 
To seize on the arsenals and capture the stores 
And burn up the dock-yards which lay on the shores — 
To tell of their war-skill and might in the field. 
Then Yankees will cower and foemen all yield. 

The prowess apparent in most of your deeds. 

In our estimation entirely exceeds 

The soldierly conduct your fathers display' d 

At Camden and Guilford, in battle array'd. 

Vast regions of carnage beneath your bright sky, 

Where thousands on thousands in death-slumbers lie, 

Proclaim it in thunder tones over the earth 

You're warriors by training — you're warriors by birth. 

There, there sleep the mighty in dark gory beds, 

AVhile fame with her trumpet unceasingly spreads 

The names of these heroes, far, far from the place 

They fell in the battle, the brave of our race. 

But who, in a bluster, rush'd into this war? 
'Twas you that begun it, and what was it for? 
Relief from oppression, was this the true cause — 
Relief from a system of despotic laws — 



58 WELL MEANT TO THE MEN OF THE SOUTH. 

Defence against demagogues rising within 

And spoiling wliat is now and ever lias been 

Peculiar to tliis famous land of the West — 

The land of all others most perfectly blest? 

All nonsense, brave fellows, the case is not so 

That things such as these have occasion'd our woo. 

You own the grave fact, when this conflict began 

We had the best government given to man — 

In most of its features the best that can be 

To make a land noble and thriving and free. 

A spirit to dictate — to govern — to reign, 

Which oft gets possession of mortals insane — 

A spirit to carry the cause in debate — 

A spirit to rule or to ruin the State, 

Has brought down upon us these judgments from God 

And plung'd all the land in a deluge of blood. 

Suppose you were injur'd, yet nevertheless, 

Was this the true method of seeking redress? 

In every decision of State-house and Court, 

A war becomes just as a final resort. 

Instead of the final, you made it the fii*st; 

The remedy, therefore, was surely the worst 

You could have selected, as matters now tend, 

To further your cause and accomplish your end. 

We did not begin it— you struck the first blow. 
On you be the guilt, then— on you be the woe 
Which flows from an evil so mighty indeed 
That ere it is ended vast millions may bleed, 
And thousands on thousands of masters and slaves 
Lie sleeping together in dark, gory graves. 
If you have to carry this budget of sin. 
We pity. Dear Brothers, the case you are in, 
For though you be giants, you surely will rue 



UNION SONG OF VICTORY AND FREEDOM. 59 

The way you have cliosen before it is through. 
Wherever you gather in darkness or light, 
We'll gather around you prepar'd for the fight. 
Or if, peradventure, you launch on the deep, 
We'll follow you closely and vigilance keep 
O'er all your transactions on land and on sea, 
Your wily and watchful and strong enemy. 
We'll fight it out with you through loss and through gain- 
Through cold and through hunger, through toil and 

through pain — 
We'll fight it out with you through hopes and through 

fears — 
Through death and destruction for many long years. 
And when it is ended, you doubtless will own 
You'd better have left such a warfare alone. 



UNION SONG OF YICTORY AND FREEDOM. 

Composed after the taking of Atlanta. 

Atlanta, once a shining place, 

Remains one of renown. 
But General Hood, with blushing face. 

Was forced to quit the town. 

Bold Sherman with his army brave, 

March' d in, a victor there. 
Where now our flags in triumph wave. 

Proud flaunting on the air. 

Thus Mobile, too, must sure be ours, 
Ere many weeks are past — 



60 UNION SOnG OF VICTORY AND FREEDOM. 

Our armies strong, our naval powers 
Will capture it at last. 

The rebels know what all this means — 
They've thought the matter through; 

Just as it was with New Orleans, 
'Twill be with Charleston too. 

So Vicksburg fell, she timely fell, 

With her defences all, 
So Richmond now perceives it well. 

Her bulwarks too must fall. 

Her armies may be brave and strong 

And disciplin'd with care, 
But Richmond cannot hold out long, 

For General Grant is there. 

The brave, heroic Sheridan, 

Down Shenandoah's vale, 
Has gain'd such mighty victories, 

The winds have told the tale. 

Old Petersburg is close beset 

With foes on every side, 
Kor can the place much longer yet 

In safety still abide. 

This city so inclos'd around 
And kept with greatest care, 

Will shortly hear our trumpets sound 
The notes of triumph there. 

Ere long Fayette and Charlotteville, 

And Raleigh in the course, 
And other places stronger still, 

Must yield to Sherman's force. 



OUR NATIONAL FLAG. 61 

So on they'll move from day to day, 

With trumpet's thrilling blast — 
To every city fight their way, 

Till all are ours at last. 

Jehovah's helping from the skies — 

He's fighting for the free; 
The open way before us lies — 

We're on to victory. 

Soon, soon on every mountain height 

Our noble Flag will stand, 
And wave by day and wave by night. 

In triumph o'er the land. 

Around it loudest songs will ring — 

Four million slaves set free 
Shall join with us and gladly sing 

The nation's jubilee. 



OUR NATIONAL FLAG. 

Written after the capture of Charleston and the replacing of the 
Flag on Fort Sumter. 

We justly may brag 

Of our noble Flag, 
And praise and exalt it in song, 

For thanks to the men 

Who've triumph' d again, 
Ours, ours is the Flag of the strong. 



63 OUR NATIONAL FLAG. 

It covers the brave — 
It ransoms tlie slave, 

And long as there's light in the sun, 
This banner unfurl' d 
Will tell to the world 

The vict'ries our nation has won. 

It stands on the shore 
Where ocean-waves roar. 

Attracting the gaze of all eyes — 
It floats from each tower, 
The emblem of power, 

And threatened invasion defies. 

See over yon height 
Bespangled and bright, 

How pompous and proud it appears; 
What mortals dare say 
But there it will stay. 

Enduring as stars in their spheres. 

O see on the mast 
That's moving so fast 

O'er wide spreading oceans and seas, 
It tosses on high 
And plays in the sky, 

Proud flouncing to storm and to breeze. 

Our young men and old— 

Our brave men and bold-^ 
Our heroes and sages and tars 

Are led on their way 

To glory each day 
By light from these beautiful stars. 



OUR NATIONAL FLAG. 63 

High, over the domes 

Of mansions and homes 
It playfully streams in the air, 

And what on the earth. 

Of beauty and worth 
Can once with this banner compare? 

Each brother and son 

Of great Washington — 
Each freemen on mountain and strand 

Shouts loud when he sees 

Afloat on the breeze 
The Stars of our dear native land. 

Whatever may be 

Of fatality— 
Of loss in this war, or of gain. 

These Stars must unite 

Commingle their light 
And one constellation remain. 

Let brother and friend 

In battle contend. 
And carnage spread over the ground; 

These Stars at the last 

When death's work is past, 
Must all on our banners be found. 

Illustrious Stars! 

Whatever now mars 
Tlie peace of this country we love, 

Your light must endure, 

All radiant and pure, 
As stars which are shining above. 



NATIONAL HONOK. 



NATIONAL HONOR. 

A people's honor can't be lost 
Unless its done at greatest cost; 
If they consent to let it go, 
They've fallen sadly, fallen low. 
'Twere better far to fall a prey 
To slaughter yet, as yet we may. 
On battle fields all bleeding lie. 
Than let our honor bleed and die. 
If we should fall in such a strife. 
Our honor's dearer far than life; 
We fall by thousands, thousands wept. 
The life is lost, but honor's kept. 

Our flag disgrac'd, what are we then? 
A race of sinking, servile men. 
So much debased 'twill be in vain 
To wipe away the lasting stain. 
Though of the noblest parents born. 
We'll rich deserve the sneer, the scorn 
Of nations great and nations small 
And be the song and sport of all. 

If we our honor sacrifice, 

All worth possessing with it dies — 

The heritage our fathers gave 

Will follow after to the grave. 

My Country, let thy honor be 

As sacred as thy liberty — 

Let both be counted priceless things, 

Whate'er of life or death it brings. 

Should thousands of thy bravest men 



STAR OF HOPE. 65 

Lay fallen, ne'er to rise again, 
Still let thy flag in honor stand 
And wave in triumph o'er the land. 



STAR OF HOPE. 

When midnight darkness veils the skies, 

How joyful 'tis to see 
Some cheering Star of Hope arise 

And shine out brilliantly. 

A dismal midnight darkness veils 

Yon Southern States helow, 
It deep and deeper yet prevails, 

Would they could see it so. 

Their homes are fill'd with mortal strife— 
Their hearts with torturing grief— 

They're struggling, gasping hard for life, 
But all without relief. 

Their land resounds with fearful cries — 
Dread foesjare treading there; 

'Tis stain'd with Wood before their eyes 
And wasted every where. 

Although like bravest men they fight. 
They're weeping night and day — 

No gracious hand is there to wipe 
Their flowing tears away. 

But while their souls are fill'd with fears, 
Their land is stain'd with blood, 



66 STAR OF HOPE. 

No Star of Hope as yet appears 
To lead tliem back to God. 

The crusliing power whicli rests upon 
Them, crushes more a ad more, 

And yet they rush presumptuous on. 
More stubborn than before. 

The angels see them from above 
With wonder and with grief, 

And mov'd by sympathetic love. 
Fly down to their relief 

But no relief for them remains 
While they are mad in sin, 

Their rebel ways must all be chang'd 
From what they long have been. 

It may be, some begin to think, 

("As on they rashly go,) 
That they are verging to the brink 

Of dreadful overthrow. 

Perhaps the Star of Hope is now 

Arising to their sight. 
And casting on each mountain brow 

Some sweet and cheering light. 

When down in deep contrition bow'd 
With shame upon their face, 

Tliey all are calling loud on God 
For his restoring grace. 

A bright and holy light will then 
Be pour'd upon their shore, 

And they'll become wise-bearted men 
To counsel war no more. 



NO COUNTRY LIKE OURS. 67 



NO COUNTRY LIKE OURS. 

Here thirty -five Commonwealths grandly unite 

In one of rare beauty and size, 
While Angels in Heaven are filled with delight 

To see such a nation arise. 

We've heard of great States, the Republics of yore, 

Bright shining almost as the sun, 
But never on earth have such States been before 

As those which are here now begun. 

Far stretching down Southward and far to the East, 

And far to the North and the West, 
Lo, God the best soil has to us kindly leased 

That mortals have ever possess' d. 

A vast population is now treading here. 

Most nobly engag'd at their toil, 
They come from all parts of the world, far and near, 

To dwell on American soil. 

Vast armies and navies and government powers 

Are with us, and vast ocean trade ; 
On earth, lo, the nation in majesty towers. 

The grandest that God ever made. 

O country illustrious, my dear native home! 

How noble thy institutes are. 
We've read of great Egypt and Persia and Rome, 

But thou art excelling them far. 

Thy capitals shining in every State — 
Thy monuments rising on high— 



68 NO COUNTBY LIKE OUES. 

Thy bulwarks of freedom, enduring and great, 
Now gladden the earth and the sky. 

My country excelling! how high is thy fame — 
How mighty thy riches and power! 

The bold winds of heaven are bearing thy name 
All over the earth at this hour. 

O country immortal! I glory in thee. 
The land where the strangers find rest; 

Delighted, they hail thee far over the sea, 
And call thee the home of the blest. 

. Bright land of the Pilgrims! although for a time 
Thy sky was with clouds overcast, 
Those hours of affliction will only combine 
To make thee the brighter at last 



PAET III. 



ISKAEL AND PALESTINE. 

1. Marching to and through the Desert. 

2. Ode to Canaan. 

3. Harp of Judah. 

4. The Fall and Rising in Israel. 



MARCHING TO AND THRO' THE DESERT. 

That was a most triumpliant day 
Wheii God took Israel's tribes away. 
The shaking earth, the listening skies, 
Oft heard their joyful songs arise. 
As they, a ransom'd, pilgrim band, 
AVent marching through the desert land. 

A wondrous prophet led the van 
In Egypt, where the march began. 
Majestic there the prophet mov'd 
From rank to rank till he had prov'd 
What Israel's ransom'd tribes would do 
When call'd to pass the desert through. 

The Prophet, with his lifted rod, 
Smote Phar' oil's kingdom till it fell 
All broken by the power of God, 
To let the tribes of Israel, 
Unchain'd, untrammell'd, undismay'd, 
Pass out to where the dese^^i laid. 

But Egypt was not yet subdu'd; 
She gather' d her best troops that day, 
And after Israel swift pursu'd, 
To take him captive on the way, 
And thus restore the flying band 
Before they reach' d the desert land. 



73 MARCHING TO AND THRO' THE DESERT. 

O 'tis a joyful thing to tell 
How God protected Israel — 
Defended them from tyrant power — 
Sustain' d them in the trying hour — 
Drown' d their pursuers in the sea, 
But set his struggling people free. 

The rescu'd tribes with one accord 
Sang joyful songs then to the Lord. 
The earth, the air, the seas, the skies, 
All heard their sounding anthems rise, 
For help and succor they had found 
In marching to the desert ground. 

Strong mountains now majestic rose 
'Twixt Israel and his vanquish' d foes— 
A mighty sea with rolling tide 
Divided them from Egypt's side. 
Thus safe, they all prepar'd anew 
To tread the gloomy desert through. 

A fiery pillar blazing bright 

Was guide to Israel's host by night, 

A cloudy pillar, through the day, 

Still led them on their winding way. 

With these to guide and cheer them, too. 

They march' d the trackless desert through. 

They hunger' d there, but Shiloh fed 
The hungry tribes with heavenly bread. 
In deep compassion— covenant love, 
He sent strange manna from above. 
And thus sustain' d the fainting band 
While traveling through the desert land. 



MARCHING TO AND THRO' THE DESERT. 73 

Though years of travel, sweat and toil, 
Were pass'd on that Arabian soil, 
Their clothing suffered, as we're told, 
No waste at all — it wax'd not old, 
But as it was when work begun. 
So it remain' d w^hen all was done. 

It may seem like a tale or dream, 
But yet the thing is strangely true. 
That there a pure and living stream 
Pursu'd them all their journey through, 
To quench their raging thirst each day. 
As they mov'd on their pilgrim way. 

Great Shiloh here was in command; 
Soon, led by his unerring hand. 
They came to Horeb, rising high 
Beneath a shaking, stormy sky. 
On which the God whom Israel fear'd, 
In august majesty appear'd. 

Thick darkness, dreadful to the eye, 
Still darker gather' d on that sky. 
Tumultuous tempests more and more 
Pour'd out a dismal, deaf'ning roar, 
"While trumpets, sounding shrill and fast. 
Shook the creation with their blast. 

Terrific thunders, pealing loud, 
Broke from the dark impending cloud; 
The mountain shook, the rocks were broke 
Beneath the dashing lightning's stroke. 
And fiery flames shot through the air 
While trembling Israel tarried there. 



74 MARCHING TO AND THRO' THE DESERT. 

Far up the mountain's craggy steep 
The Prophet's noble form appear'cl, 
The shoes discharg'd from off his feet 
As he its lofty summit near'cl, 
There to receive, with sacred awe, 
The words of God's eternal law. 

The Lord descending from the sky 
In mystic form, pass'd slowly by 
To let the prophet faintly see 
The glory of his majesty. 
He saw, and from that secret place 
Talk'd with Jehovah, face to face. 

But let me not forget to tell 
What numbers here inglorious fell 
Beneath Jehovah's kindled ire: 
Some by the sword, some by the fire, 
Some by the plague, which, in one day. 
Swept thousands of their host away. 

The lightning's flash, the burning flame 
Swift from the Court of Heaven came, 
And swept, amid their guilty mirth. 
Two daring rebels from the earth. 
As quick as thought the thing was done, 
When all with them was lost or won. 

The fathers there, 'mid lust and pride. 
Were stricken down and dreadful died— 
A harden'd, unbelieving race. 
Who found at last no burial place, 
But left their bodies on the sand 
To moulder in that desert land. 



MARCHING TO AND THRO' THE DESERT. 75 

But lo! their sons wliom Shiloh chose 
To serve his cause, immortal rose. 
fTheir minds ilhim'd with heavenly light — 
Their Christian graces shining bright, ) 
They humbly trod the desert through 
With Canaan's goodly land in view. 

Their works, at morning, noon, and night, 

Were lovely in Jehovah's sight 

They faithful toil'd, they earnest pray'd — 

They every order strict obey'd, 

A generation wise and true. 

Who nobly march'd the desei't through. 

The King of Bashan, in his might. 
Came forth to stand in daring fight 
Against these sons of God, and make 
Their vanquish'd legions quick forsake 
His boasted soil, or dreadful fall 
And perish — prophet, priest and all. 

But Israel saw without a fear » 

His bold presuming troops appear. 

They set the battle in array 

And made these vaunting hosts their prey. 

Till angels, shouting, saw them stand 

Brave conquerors on that Bashan land. 

These valiant men did once arise. 

By special order from the skies. 

And fall upon their Midian foes 

And smite them with such dreadful blows 

That ne'er a power since time began 

Was spoil' d, as they spoil' d Midian. 



76 MARCHING TO AND THPwO' THE DESERT. 

There Am'lek came and boastful fought 
With Israel's host, but all for naught. 
The Prophet stood with hands and eyes 
Uprais'd to Shiloh in the skies, 
Who heard his earnest, urgent plea, 
And gave him there the victory. 

However bold, however brave 
The host may be, the power to save 
Is still in instant prayer, and then 
When it's sustain' d by faithful men, 
Upholding both the Prophet's hands, 
While he before Jehovah stands. 

There Moab's King called from the East 
A venal seer — a hireling priest. 
To vainly curse this conquering host 
Of God, now spreading o'er his coast, 
That he, in sweet exultant joy, 
Might that accursed host destroy. 

An Angel from the realms of day, 
(With mighty sword grasp'd in his hand,> 
Withstood the hireling on his way 
And sternly gave him this command: 
Go, perverse Prophet, if you will, 
But yield to God's directions still. 

The Prophet came, but not to curse — 
He came to do just the reverse — 
To bless the happy pilgrim band 
Here traveling to a promis'd land. 
With rightful views of them possessed. 
He thus the waiting king address'd: 



MAKCHING TO AND THRO' THE DESEET. 77 

" As mighty lions, bold and strong, 

These valiant tribes shall march along; 

They'll through and through great vict'ries gain 

And drink the blood of thousands slain — 

High o'er the fallen Agag rise 

And live when time and nature dies. 

" I see them spreading far and wide 
Like gardens by the river side — 
Like valleys filPd with fruitful trees— 
Like whited sails upon the seas, 
Their goodly tents in order stand 
Here on the heights of Moab's land. 

"What man of greatest power and skill 
Can count the fourth of Israel? 
They'll brightly shine and multiplj'- 
As numerous as the stars on high — 
They'll live alone, and rich or poor, 
Through every age of man endure. 

*' Behold, when years of time are run, 
A Star shall out of Jacob come — 
A sceptre shall from him arise 
And smite great Moab till he dies; 
Mount Seir and Edom then shall fall 
And Israel triumph over all. 

" Sure no enchantment can prevail 
Against this host you would assail. 
No divination can succeed 
CWhate'ermay be the time of need, ^ 
Against a power which all must see, 
The man that curses, curs'd must be." 



MARCHING TO AND THRO' THE DESERT. 

Wlien this grave Prophet, young or old, 
Had thus his wondrous story told, 
Back to his ancient home he fled 
Without a gift, without reward, 
Content to leave what he had said 
To be accomplish'd by the Lord. 

When Israel, often in distress, 
Was traveling through the wilderness, 
Lo! all was wild and waste and drear, 
No flowing streams nor rivers near — 
No springing fields, no bright display 
Of nature there to cheer their way. 

At length they near'd great Palestine, 
The fairest land that eyes have seen — 
A land where generous fruits were growing- 
A land with milk and honey flowing — 
A land all robed in beauteous dress, 
Beyond the howling wilderness. 

When Moses on the mountain stood 
And cast his eyes across the flood, 
He saw the blest abode before 
His wond'ring view; he saw the shore 
Where millions of his race would tread 
When he was number' d with the dead. 

But though he saw the promis'd land 
Before him rise, before him stand, 
CHowever great its beauties were, J 
He could not cross and enter there. 
But yet he died, 'tis sweetly true. 
With Canaan's land distinct in view. 



MARCHIIsG TO AND THRO' THE DESERT. 79 

So when the steady Christian dies 
He casts his longing, wishful eyes, 
Up to that dear and blest abode 
Where he's to sweetly dwell with God. 
He sees it with untold delight. 
And dies with heaven itself in sight. 

'Twas thus the Prophet sunk to rest — 
A holy man — most sweetly blest. 
He lived as few had lived before, 
He died in sight of Canaan's shore; 
He nobly stood, he joyful fell, 
Immortal Chief of Israel. 

ISTo other prophet ever stood 
As Moses did, for Israel's good — 
No other prophet e'er before 
Such part in holy labors bore, 
And hence, of all the human kind, 
He's left the greatest name behind. 

Perhaps his like will ne'er again 

Arise among the sons of men, 

To faintless, fearless go before 

The hosts of God, and lead them o'er 

The Christian pilgrim's homeward way 

To lands Elysian far away. 

In what lone glen — in what lone glade 
His body after death was laid — 
Upon what mountain's rocky steep — 
In what deep vale his ashes sleep, 
Is doubtless to the Angels known, 
If not to them, to God alone. 



80 MARCHING TO AND THEO' THE DESERT. 

Perhaps the Prophet never saw 
The death demanded by the law, 
But while unseen by mortal eye 
"Was quick translated to the sky; 
There, seated by Immanuel's side, 
A mortal man who never died. 

He could have had at his command 
The boundless wealth of Egyi^t's land. 
He could have set in Phar'oh's seat, 
With princes bowing at his feet, 
And widely reign' d, historians say. 
The greatest monarch of his day. 

Above it all he nobly rose; 
Such was his faith, he rather chose 
To live defam'd upon the earth 
Than pride himself in royal birth — 
He chose to live for God below 
And let these worldly honors go. 

He sought a better portion far. 
To rise and be a shining star 
In heavenly light— he sought to gain 
A fadeless crown — to live and reign 
Where mighty Angels soar and sing, 
A glorious, bright, immortal King. 

When this blest Prophet passed away. 
The Lord selelcted Joshua, 
The great, the gifted son of Kun, 
To carry through what he'd begun. 
And thus, with sacred joy, fulfil 
What he'd decreed for Israel. 



MARCHING TO AND THRO' THE DESERT. 81 

This man "was sent, with many more, 
To cross in haste to Canaan's shore — 
Thence move abroad with watchful care 
To see what men and things were there, 
And how the ent'ring tribes could best 
Proceed and take the promis'd rest. 

When others to the Jewish court 
Brought back a feign'd, a false report, 
He bold withstood these faithless spies, 
Expos' d their fraud, rebuk'd their lies, 
And by deliv'rance wise and fair. 
Suppress' d a curs' d rebellion there. 

The Lord, beholding from the sky, 
Declar'd these treach'rous men should die 
And perish in that desert land, 
While he and his, a worthier band. 
Should enter and possess the place 
Long promis'd to the Jewish race. 

Before the last grand march began, 

Jehovah thus address' d this man: 

"Where'er you go, where'er you fight. 

Be sure you keep my laws in sight, 

Be faithful-working, true to me. 

Then ' as your day, your strength shall be.' 

"Be thou courageous, bold, and strong. 
Make God thy trust, thy joy, thy song. 
I'll never fail thee, sick or well — 
I'll ne'er forsake my Israel; 
As I help'd Moses at the sea. 
Remember, man, I'll so help thee.'' 

D* 



82 MARCHING TO AND THEO' THF: DESERT. 

For pain or pleasure, gain or loss, 

The army now prepar'd to cross 

The flowing stream of Jordan o'er, 

And reach the long-sought, wish'd-for shore. 

Though bold and daring was the deed, 

They felt assur'd it would succeed. 

No music sounds rung in their ears 
To cheer their minds, to quell their fears — 
No soothing strains broke from the skies 
To drive the tear drops from their eyes, 
But all was solemn, all was still 
Throughout the ranks of Israel. 

The leader thus the host address' d: 
" Be firm, brave men, be self-possess' d. 
The Lord will interpose this day — 
He'll go before and ope the way. 
Defending by his powerful hand, 
Till on yon distant shore you stand." 

In order now the army mov'd. 
Each kept his place, each soldier prov'd 
His trust in God, as on they went, 
Fast pressing down the deep descent. 
When, lo! he bid the stream divide 
And let them through to Canaan's side. 

The Priests and Levites went before, 
As on the sacred ark they bore. 
The army follow'd, rank by rank, 
Descending still the rugged bank — 
Brave moving on, as armies do, 
Till all the mighty host was through. 



MARCHING TO AND THRO' THE DESERT. 83 

The heavens beheld and wonder' d then— 
The Angels shouted loud, Amen — 
The earth re-echoed with their song, 
Reverberating far along 
The sounding banks of Canaan's shore, 
When Israel pass'd the Jordan o'er. 

To celebrate this great event, 
They rais'd an humble monument 
Upon the long remember' d height — 
The joyful troops encamp' d that night. 
To tell the wond'ring world always 
What things were done in Israel's days. 

The weary tribes arriv'd at home, 
No more in desert lands to roam, 
Kow gazed delighted o'er the soil 
Where they were hence to live and toil — 
To till the ground— to gather store. 
And rise to glory more and more. 

But still their souls were not at rest, 
The land was yet to be posse ss'd; 
They'd safely cross'd the rolling flood. 
But now the sword must stream with blood 
Of myriads fallen, thousands slain, 
Ere they could full possession gain. 

Lo! on the morrow, solemn day, 
The great commander, Joshua, 
Espied a warrior near him stand 
With battle blade grasp' d in his hand. 
And instantly the hero cried: 
Art thou, brave one, on Israel's side? 



84 MARCHIKG TO AND THIiO^ THE DESERT. 

'* As leader of the host, I'm come 
To finish what you've now begun — 
To help you with resistless might 
Drive out from hence the Canaanite — 
Each city take — each king dethrone, 
Till you can call this land your own." 

On Jericho the first attack 

Was boldly made; there was no lack 

Of faith, or hope, or burning zeal — 

Of what men ought to do or feel 

To smite a city — strike a foe — 

Break hostile powers and lay them low. 

But see the thousands dwelling here, 

(Now seized with trembling, filled with fear,) 

Combin'd in one defensive throng. 

To make the fastenings all so strong, 

No mortal powers which e'er have been 

Could force a breach and enter in. 

But God was there with strength to break 

The brazen bars of every gate — 

To smite the city with his hand. 

And blot it quickly from the land — 

A city to perdition hurl'd 

And swept in vengeance from the world. 

*'Go, warriors, go," Jehovah said, 

"Go take the place, you've naught to dread. 

Whate'er their substance or their gain. 

Let nothing of the whole remain. 

The gold and silver give to me, 

But spoil the rest eternally. 



MARCHING TO AND THIIO' THE DESERT. 85 

'' With flying banners bravely go, 
March round and round this Jericho. 
Let not a single rank be broke — 
Let not a whisp'ring word be spoke; 
Let nothing but the trumpet's blast 
Ring out, till all the host has pass'd. 

" But let the trumps so loudly sound. 
They'll make the vaulted skies resound, 
And let at last such shouts be heard 
As never winds or waters stirr'd. 
When this full seven days is done, 
The glorious triumph will be won." 

So at the last loud, mighty roar 
Of voices, trumpets breaking o'er 
The rising hills, the distant fields, 
In sounds as loud as thunder-peals, 
This guilty city prostrate fell 
An easy prey to Israel. 

Almost as quick as lightning's flash 
The inmates heard the dreadful crash 
Of walls and towers; and sore dismay'd. 
They saw the palm-tree city laid 
(With all her wealth— with all her worth,) 
A pile of ruins on the earth. 

Thus all the powers of darkness must 

Tremendous fall and lie in dust. 

Whate'er defences brave and strong 

To them pertain, to them belong. 

Yet all, (though leagued with death and hell, ) 

Must fall before Immanuel. 



86 ODE TO CANAAK. 

But let me not forget to say, 

These tribes movM on their conquering way 

Till all the land to them was given, 

A type of what's reserved in heaven 

For those who march the desert through 

With God's eternal rest in view. 



ODE TO CANAAN. 

Hail! thou land of sacred story, 
Where the Lord on earth did dwell — 
Land indeed of light and glory, 
As ten thousand tongues can tell: 

Chosen country — 
Pro mis' d land of Israel. 

There were sacred, lofty mountains, 
Round whose top the sunbeams play'd — 
There were beauteous, holy fountains, 
Flowing down through glen and glade. 

All in mercy 
For the world's redemption made. 

There was Tabor with its steepness — 
There Gilboa lonely stands — 
There was Olive with its sweetness — 
There was Gilead with its balms. 

Lovely Canaan ! 
Thou wast fairest of all lands. 

There was Merom with its Feeders- 
There was Bashan with its trees, 
There were mighty oaks and cedars 



ODE TO CANAAN. 87 

Nobly waving in the breeze. 
Lakes and mountains! 
None on earth were e'er like these. 

There was Jordan wildly flowing— ^ 

There was bright Gennessaret; 
There were breezes coolly blowing 
When the evening sun was set. 

Land delightful! 
Everywhere remember' d yet. 

There the Fathers built their altars- 
There they oft were sorely tried, 
And my tongue it almost falters 
While I tell how there they died. 

In Machpelah, 
They lay sleeping side by side. 

There the prophets, high in station. 
Taught the ways of God to men; 
There they spoke by inspiration — 
Wrote with an immortal pen. 

Days of wonder! 
Ne'er to be on earth again. 

There was David, God's Anointed, 
Kais'd to the imperial throne; 
There he ruled, by heaven appointed, 
And immortal vict'ries won. 

Prince illustrious! 
Type of God's eternal son. 

There the temple shining brightly. 
Spread its glories all abroad; 
There the angels, watching nightly, 
Kept the sacred place for God. 



88 ODE TO CANAAN. 

Happy country! 
Where celestial choirs abode. 

There great battles by that nation, 
In support of truth were fought; 
There the wonders of salvation, 
On from age to age were wrought. 

Blessed people ! 
They eternal glory sought. 

There a city, beauteous, splendid. 
Fairest known since time begun. 
Was establish' d and defended 
By great David's greater son. 

O! the grandeur 
Of the reign of Solomon. 

There the gifted bard Isaiah, 
Lived and labor' d, soar'd and sung — 
There he spoke of the Messiah, 
As no other seer had done. 

0! that prophet! 
What a cherish' d name he's won. 

There the faithful Jeremiah, 
Sadly mourn' d great Salem's fall. 
There he wander' d, weeping, wailing, 
Round her broken, ruin'd wall. 

Ruined Salem, 
Ruin'd Judah, ruin'd all! 

There, when seventy years were ended, 
Nehemiah and his band 
Came with heavenly power attended. 
To restore their native land. 



ODE TO CANAAN. 89 

Then, fair Salem 
Rose again at God's command. 

There the long expected Saviour, 
Came from glory down to men — 
There he took and wore our nature, 
To restore the world again. 

Hail Judea! 
Hail thou land of Bethlehem! 

There a new star brightly glowing, 
Did the azure sky adorn. 
Thus to mortals gladly showing 
Where the Christ of God was horn. 

Angels shouting. 
Ushered in the happy morn. 

There he wrought his signs and wonders, 
Proving his divinity; 
There he ruled the rolling thunders— 
There he calm'd the raging sea. 

O! what power! 
Showing vast infinity. 

There he gave himself to teaching 
Precious truths from place to place; 
There he spent his life in preaching 
Free redemption to our race. 

Fondly calling 
Israel to receive the grace. 

There was famous Mount Moriah — 
There was bloody Calvary; 
There the Great, the Blest Messiah, 
Died upon the cursed tree. 

O! the wonders 
Of that sacred mystery. 



90 ODE TO CANAAN. 

There he rose and high ascended, 
Having conquered death and hell, 
While angelic bands attended, 
Crying, Hail Immanuel ! 

High in heaven 
Let the King of Glory dwell. 

There the gospel dispensation 
Open'd with its visions bright — 
There the promis'd spirit coming. 
Spread abroad celestial light. 

While with rapture, 
Jews and Gentiles hail'd the siglit. 

There the gospel in its glory. 
First began its bright career. 
Sweetly telling Calvary's story 
To the fondly list'ning ear — 

Tidings bringing 
To all nations far and near. 

There the Jewish people breaking 
Holy covenant with their God — 
Ways of righteousness forsaking. 
Suffer' d from his chastening rod — 

Gross apostates 
In the land their fathers trod. 

Yet they reckless, unrepenting. 
Fell to sorer judgments fast. 
Till their guilty tribes were scatter' d 
Like the dust before the blast. 

All were driven 
From the father-land at last. 

But, though fallen, scatter'd, broken. 
Yet their children shall be free; 



HARP OF JUDAH. 91 

They'll return, for God has spoken, 
From their long captivity. 

Suff'ring nation! 
There's a brighter day for thee. 



HARP OF JUDAH. 

The harp which made the sweetest sound 

That ever echo'd on the earth, 
Was struck on Judah's holy ground, 

Which gave the sacred poets birth. 

In early days the strain began. 
And o'er the plains of Israel spread — 

Triumphant on, it grandly ran, 
By heavenly inspiration led. 

On Hermon's top among the trees, 
Where rattling thunders loudly rung, 

Was often heard upon the breeze, 
The strains vrhich Judah's poets sung. 

Along the vale where Cedron flows. 
Where once the pensive Saviour trod. 

The songs of Judah's poets rose. 
Ascending sweetly up to God. 

Far o'er those wide extended fields, 
At morning time, nor less at even, 

Their flowing music rolled in peals 
So loud, 'twas joyful heard in heaven. 

There David tuned the sounding lyre — 
There Asaph spoke immortal things, 

Both burning with celestial fire 
As long and loud they touch' d the strings. 



93 HARP OP JUDAH. 

Hosea there and Habakkuk 
Each in his turn both sung and wept, 

Nor dare we say which of them struck 
The sacred lyre to best effect. 

It was not here, as in those lands 
Renown'd for polish'd, classic lore. 

Where every hand that struck the harp. 
Was by some venal poet bore. 

What Homer sung — what Byron sings, 
Is sometimes neither true nor wise, 

But 0! the strokes upon these strings 
Were all directed from the skies. 

These Bards are now no longer there, 
They've gone, like setting stars, to rest — 

Their bodies in the sepulchre — 
Their spirits on the Saviour's breast. 

The harp is mute in Judah's halls. 
It sounds no more on Israel's plains — 

No bard, when great occasion calls. 
Is there to wake the cheering strains. 

But while these ancient poets lay 
Mouldering beneath the grassy turf. 

Their music strains will live*till they 
Are learn'd and sung o'er all the earth. 

Is Israel's land now trodden down, 
Its palmy days of glory o'er ? 

Have prophet, priest, and king, and crown, 
All pass'd away to be no more ? 

The prophets have not spoke in vain, 

They tell us of a joyful day 
When Israel shall return again, 

And Shiloh wash their sins away. 



THE FALL AND RISINO IN ISRAEL. 93 

New strains will then triumphant break, 
New anthems ring from shore to shore, 

And all the land of Israel shake 
With shoutings never heard before. 



THE FALL AND RISING IN ISRAEL. 

When Christ was crucified 

Upon Moriah's height. 
There hung, and bled and died, 
In God and Angels' sight, 
A midnight darkness sudden fell 
On all the land of Israel. 

The temple, tall and fair, 

( Adorn' d with every grace,) 
Which stood so proudly there, 
Now totter' d on its base. 
Its veil, from top to bottom tore, 
Was rent away to be no more. 

No storm was in the air — 

No thunder peal was heard. 
But yet a power was there. 
Which all creation stirr'd. 
The rocks were from the mountains liurl'd. 
And dread convulsions shook the world. 

Successive quakings burst, 

(At that mysterious hour,) 
With slighter sound at first. 
Then with increasing power. 
Till stroke on stroke so mighty passM, 
The vast creation shook at last. 



94 THE FALL AND BISING IN ISRAEL. 

They put liim there to death, 

In unrelenting wrath, 
But God, with angry breath, 
Has scatter' d them like chaff— 
Pursu'd them still with frowning face 
And made them long a suff'ring race. 

The end of all their aim 
Was terribly to pour 
Contempt upon his name 
Till time should be no more. 
Instead of this, they've rais'd him high, 
While they and theirs are doom'd to die. 

But though the dismal veil 
Is now upon their mind. 
Another day they'll hail 
Him Saviour of mankind. 
They'll glad return, and loud proclaim, 
Through all their land, Messiah's name. 

A remnant of their race, 
Selected from the rest, 
And saved by sovereign grace, 
Perhaps will praise him best 
Of all the blood-wash' d, ransom'd throng, 
Which to the earthly church belong. 

They'll sweetest voices raise — 
They'll loud Hosannas sing. 
And celebrate his praise. 
Till hills and valleys ring 
With ceaseless songs of joy and mirth, 
Enrapturing to the list'ning earth. 



PART IV. 



The attention is liere drawn to certain night-watchings 
and night-scenes, the most remarkable of any that have 
occurred on earth, in connection with wliicli there is an 
exhibition of the sleepless and deathless nature of the soul 
and its subsequent value, 

1. Watch Night in Goshen. 

2. Watch Nights in Shushan. 

8. Watch Night at Bethlehem. 

4. Watch Night in Gethsemane. 

5. Watch Nights at the Sepulchre. 

6. The Prisoners. 

7. The Soul. 



WATCH NIGHT IN GOSHEN. 

Ill Egypt once a suff 'ring band 
Was order' d to forsake the land — 
To be prepar'd, at morning light, 
To take their swift and joyful flight 
To some new home far o'er the sea, 
And there enjoy sweet liberty. 

The Hebrew's God was strangely there, 

In earth and sky and sea and air — 

In darkness, hail, and fire, and storm — 

In every fearful, frightful form, 

He'd come in vengeance from his throne 

To make his name in Egypt known. 

This pow'rful God, with stroke on stroke, 

The Hebrew captive's chains had broke, 

And fill'd him with the pleasing thought 

That, by these works which Heaven had wrought, 

He was redeem' d, no more to be 

A slave in dread captivity. 

A mighty Angel, swift in flight, 
Went through the trembling land that night. 
By strict commandment from the sky, 
He pass'd the Hebrew dwellings by, 
But dreadful smote, with chast'ning hand, 
The other dwellings of the land. 



WATCH NIGHT IN GOSHEN, 

These favor' d ones (with sleepless eyes 
Now steady watching,) heard the cries 
Of thousands through each yast domain, 
Loud weeping, wailing o'er their slain. 
For oh! in countless homes, 'tis said, 
Lay all the first-horn^ stricken dead. 

They saw the awful, wasting tide 
Of ruin, spreading far and wide — 
They saw the kingdom falling down — 
The throne, the palace, and the crown; 
Then heard the cry, Up now and flee, 
O Israel, far beyond the sea. 

They watch' d in faith, and hope, and fear, 
To see the coming day appear — 
They ready stood with staff in hand 
To fly from that ill-fated land, 
And travel on from day to day 
To find a rest, far, far away. 

And when the morning light Avas come, 
No trump was heard nor sound of drum — 
No banners floated on the air — 
No marshal' d troops paraded there, 
But early on that opening day 
They quick and quiet pass'd away. 

But while they cross' d the wide spread plain, 

'Twas never to return again. 

They bid adieu to all around, 

To Phar'oh's people, Phar'oh's ground, 

Then hasted forward to the sea, 

Exulting in their liberty. 



WATCn NIGHTS IN 8HUSHAN. 99 



WATCH NIGHTS IN SHUSHAN. 

There was a time, then known to few, 
When Persia's pious queen withdrew 
And spent long nights, (with sleepless eyes 
Uprais'd in weeping to the skies,) 
Entreating to her Saviour dear, 
Relief from dread destruction near. 

While others peaceful round her slept, 
She still watch'd on and pray'd and wept. 
But ere the final morning broke. 
The comforter within her spoke 
And said, O weeper! peace, be still, 
There's yet relief for Israel. 

Go thou to-morrow, fearless go 
Forth to the king, be firm, be true, 
And let the reigning monarch know 
The mischief Haman means to do. 
He'll not reject, but hear your pray'r, 
And give you timely comfort there. 

So when the morning sun arose, 

("All waking now from night's repose,) 

In hopeful expectation led. 

Away she to the palace fled 

And enter'd in, a trembling thing, 

To seek relief from Persia's king. 

Before his majesty she stood. 
Still looking up, in faith and lo%e. 
To God the Great, the Just, the Good, 
For needed succor from above; 



L.ofC. 



100 WATCH NIGHTS IN SHUSHAN. 

And hence, tlie ear she sought to gain 
Was not a moment sought in vain. 

" What's thy petition now," said he, 

"It shall be freely granted thee, 

To half, at least, the kingdom's worth — 

To half that I possess on earth. 

No longer, lovely queen, repine, 

All I can give shall sure be thine." 

At jDrudent hour she made her plea — 
She told him of the dread decree 
He'd sign'd with an incautious hand. 
To extirpate from Persia's land 
The people dear from whence she came, 
Of blessed, high, and holy name. 
Whose fathers once in Jewry trod. 
The people of the living God. 

" Fear not, thou fair one, chaste and brave! 
I'll yet thy suff 'ring people save — 
I'll bid them rise with all their might — 
Provide them armor for the fight, 
And with the help that I can give. 
Their foes shall die, but they shall live." 

Resulting from these nights of prayer, 
She found relief from all her care. 
He promptly answer' d her request — 
He gave her suppliant people rest, 
And set ten thousand shouting round. 
For great deliv'rance they had found. 



WATCH NIGHT AT BETHLEHEM. 101 



WATCH NIGHT AT BETHLEHEM. 

Lo! once amid the dead of night, 
A flood of new and heavenly light 
Burst forth, in mystic form, from God, 
And spread refulgent all abroad, 
Displaying, in a wondrous way, 
The glories of the Go»pel Day. 

Then suddenly an Angel band 
Came flying o'er the Promis'd Land, 
And sung in loud and lofty strains, 
Above Judea's sounding plains, 
The song of our Redeemer's birth. 
To watchers listening on the earth. 

Hark! how their hosts, transported, cry, 
" All Glory be to God on High;" 
*' Good will to Men" is publish' d there. 
Loud ringing through the midnight air, 
And " Peace on Earth" is echo'd round, 
" With sweet salvation in the sound." 

Yes, gracious Heaven! 'twas sweetly then 

That God reveal' d to mortal men 

The brightest scene which earth has known— 

The brightest day which ever shone. 

Since that disgraceful, guilty fall, 

Which ruin'd man, and earth, and all. 

The message brought was strange, 'twas new, 
It bid the watchers haste to view 
The babe in David's City born, 



102 WATCEt KIGHT IN GE't^SEMANE. 

As closed the night, as came the morn, 
As pass'd the joyful seasons when 
These things were done at Bethlehem. 



WATCH NIUHT IN GETHSEMANE. 

There was a time, remember' d yet, 
When Jesus, in a bloody sweat 

Lay bath'd — a dreadful sight I 
His voice, while others round were still, 
Rose up and spread o'er Olives' Hill, 

All mournful in the night. 

Lo! here a suff' ring worm I lie 
In mighty pain and agony, 

O'erwhelm'd with matchless grief. 
In vain I cry with panting breath, 
Oh! save my sorrowing soul from death, 

There's none to give relief 

See, how from every opening wound, 
The blood flows out and stains the grounds 

See how the gushing tears, 
Roll down his pale and throbbing cheeks. 
While still in agony he seeks 

Deliv'rance from his fears. 

" O! hear me, Father, while I pray! 
Now take the bitter cup away. 

And save me from this hour, 
When hosts of hell, Cawak'd, enrag'd,) 
With kings and priests are fierce enga^'d 

Thy Darling to deyour. 



WATCH NIGHTS AT THE SEPrLCHRfi. 103 

'* But if it be thy sovereign will 
That I must bear these sufferings still. 

Thy will supreme be done. 
Though in the deepest depths of wo, 
I must unchang'd, unchanging show 

The defrence of a son. ' ' 

But while he watch' d, and pray'd, and wept, 
Lo! the Disciples shameful slept 

Hard by upon the ground. " 

lie bade them watch the night away; 
Instead of this they senseless laj' 

All wrapt in sleep profound. 

Yet ere the morning sun arose, 

They, sorrowing, woke from their repose. 

And all intensely pray'd. 
But oh! the watching time was past, 
The sad event had come at last, 

And Christ was now betrav'd. 



WATCH NIGHTS AT THE SEPULCHRE, 

There was a time when Jesus laid 
Wrapt in the dark and dismal shade 

Of his sequester'd tomb. 
No voice was heard; no, not a breath — 
But all around was still as death 

Amid the fearful gloom. 

The Roman guards, with spears in hand, 
Stood there, a bold, intrepid band, 
Almost without a stir, 



104 WATCH KIGHTS AT THE SEPULCHRE. 

To "watcli around the Stranger's grave, 
And keep, with manly courage brave, 
The solemn Sepulchre. 

A noise was sometimes heard through earth, 
A bursting cry, a song of mirth, 

A shout from glen and glade; 
But all was quiet, all was still, 
Upon each plain, and field, and hill, 

Bound where the Saviour laid. 

Another evening sun now set — 
Another night, more dismal yet, 

Came falling on the ground. 
The mourners shed their bitter tears. 
And yielded still to greater fears, 

Amid the awe profound. 

But while he thus, in silence, slept 
Amid the gloom, and mourners wept 

In sorrow for the slain. 
An earthquake, dread and awful, broke, 
Whenlo! the sleeping Saviour woke, 

And rose to life again. 

Amid the terrors of that night. 

The Roman guards were fiU'd with fright, 

And fled in haste away, 
Whate'er the moving cause had been, 
They all were gone, not one was seen 

There at the break of day. 

No night on earth has e'er been past 
Like that great night, which was the last 
Christ slumber'd with the dead. 



THE PRISONERS. 105 

The hosts of hell were gather'd there, 

While hands of Angels filled the air, 

All watching round his bed. 

As closed this long remember'd nii>ht, 
They saw a day of brighter light 

(Than e'er before had been,; 
In glory open here below, 
To chase away despair and wo. 

And save the world from sin. 

They further learn'd from these watch-hours 
How faint and feeble are the powers 

Of earth and hell combin'd. 
They saw that these must quicklj' lull, 
And Jesus triumph over all 

As Saviour of mankind. 



THE PRISONERS. 

As Paul and Silas made their way 
Through ancient Macedonia, 

They came to Philippi, 
Where, lo, they bothCwithout a fault,) 
Were thrust into a prison vault 

To pine away and die. 

Their cell was well secur'd with locks, 
Their weary feet made fast in stocks, 

And in this dreadful plight 
They yielded not to sad despair, 
But gave themselves to praibe and pray'jv 

And so they pass'd tlio night. 

r* 



106 THE PKISONEKS. 

While there, they join' cT and sweetly sung 
Till all the gloomy prison rung 

With their delightful lays. 
The prison'rs heard the joyful sound 
Loud ringing through the cells around, 

And sought to join the praise. 

Then, in the lonely midnight hour, 
They cried to God for helping power, 

And soon that power was sent. 
In some mysterious way, unknown. 
The prison doors were open thrown. 

And every chain was rent. 

Jehovah wrought in wonder there — 
Strange thunder sounds roll'd through the air 

And shook the region round. 
The prison nodded to a fall, 
And every pillar, every wall 

Now trembled to the ground. 

That was a signal night, indeed. 
When Paul and Silas thus were freed 

From danger and from thrall; 
And sent in triumph on their way. 
As they were hast'ning to obey 

The Macedonian call. 

Resulting from this wakeful night. 
They had the pleasing, happy sight, 

(In that lone prison place,} 
Of seeing men* who long had been 
The willing slaves of sense and sin, 

Reclaim'd by sovereign grace. 



*Tlie jailor and his family becatae cliristians. 



THE SOUL. 107 



THE SOUL. 

When stillness reigns through, earth and air — 

When nature sleepeth everywhere — 

When round the calm and cloudless sky 

The stars are shining silently — 

When on the gardens, fields and hills, 

The dew, in noiseless drops, distills — 

When not a speaking voice is heard — 

When not a slumb'ring head is stirr'd; 

Lo! then the soul is active still, 

Not less in judgment than in will; 

Sometimes devising wond'rous schemes— 

Sometimes producing stirring dreams; 

Oft moving strangely on the heart. 

Until the sleeper's feelings start 

And rouse him from his slumb'ring bed, 

As one awaking from the dead. 

Lo! then he vents some deep-drawn sighs. 

Or utters wild and startling cries, 

Oft calling, with a gentle voice. 

His fellow sleeper to rejoice. 

At fancied music, soft and clear, 

He thinks is falling on his ear, 

Or at some visions, strange and briglit. 

He thinks are breaking on his sight. 

There's quiet for the breast that bleeds. 
To give the sweet relief it needs; 
There's slumber for the eye that weeps», 
But the soul, it never sleeps. 



f 



108 THE SOUL. 

Mysterious spirit! quick as light, 
Thy thoughts leap out and take their flight 
To some untravers'd realm afar, 
Ilium' d by neither sun nor star — 
To some harmonious world above, 
Where all the life's a life of love; 
#r some discordant world below, 
Where all the life's a life of wo. 
]^ow, lighting on great battle fields, 
They're riding on the chariot wheels. 
Which, rolling there in thund'ring sound, 
Once spread destruction o'er the ground; 
Or, mounted on some rocky height, 
Amid the darkness of the night, 
They gaze and shudder at the storm 
Which, fierce and howling, sweeps aloii;:. 
Then quick they fly to deserts wild 
Where blooming nature never smil'd — 
Where human footsteps never trod, 
And none is present there but God, 
Now they are roving on the shore. 
Where troubled waters ceaseless roar; 
Now rising up the mountain steep — 
Now riding on the rolling deej) — 
Now plunging in some vast abyss — 
Now leaping down some precipice — 
Now wand'ring in some lonely cave — 
Now weeping o'er some hero's grave; 
From place to place, through earth and air. 
They're flying, flying everywhere. 
Now they go back and see with awe 
The dreadful sight that Noah saw. 
Of nations to destruction hurl'd. 
Beneath the flood which drown'd the' world. 



THE SOUL. 109 

Then tliey go forward to tlie ground 

Where, marshal'd at the trumpet's sound, 

The powers of darkness and of light 

Will rush at last to desp'rate fight, 

And leave on Armageddon's plain, 

A countless host of warriors slain. 

Thence on they fly to that dread hour, 

When God will come in awful power 

To sweep the ocean from its bed 

And call from thence the slumb'ring dead — 

To dash the mountain from its base — 

Remove the island from his place. 

And bid the world, all wrapt in flame. 

Return to notliing whence it came. r;. 

When that great day was usher'd in, 

That Christ atoned for mortal sin. 

The earth with dread convulsions shook — 

The massive rocks, upheav'd and broke, 

In frightful forms lay scatter' d round 

Upon the shaking, shudd'ring ground, 

Which, staiu'd and gory, drank the blood 

Of the incarnate Son of God. 

The sun, which had so brightly blazed 

Amid the skies, now stood amazed. 

From hour to hour upon that day 

He hid his face, and not a ray 

Of cheering light was joyful giv'n 

To mortals there, from earth or heav'n. 

Lo! all was dark, and deep'ning gloom 

CAs dread as that which veils the tomb, ) 

When Shiloh hung upon the tree. 

And died in untold agony, 

To pay the vast stupendous debt 



110 THE SOUL. 

Which mortals owed Csome owe it yet,*) 
To God's avenging law, which then 
Was honor'd and restor'd again. 
Deep silence had before this spread 
Through all the mansions of the dead. 
But now the graves were open thrown, 
The wasting flesh, the mould'ring bone 
Kesum'd their life, and from the dust 
Departed saints, the good and just, 
Arose to live on earth anew, 
Redeem'd in soul and body too. 
The powers of earth and hell were tliere, 
(^In joyful hope, or else despair,) 
To see what none had seen before, 
And seeing once, will see no more, 
The execution of the plan 
Which God devis'd for saving man. 
Immortal soul, of heavenly birth! 
Great is thy price, vast is thy worth! 
In vain the mighty Angels try 
With all the learning of the sky 
To solve the problem, what it cost 
To save the soul of man when lost. 
The prophets came, as prophets say, 
To show to fallen men the way 
From earth to that Divine abode 
Where saints are always praising God, 
For grace amazing, free and great. 
Which sav'd them from their lost estate. 
But while the prophets,''young and old, 
Have spoken long, they've scarcely told 
The half of that stupendous whole 
Which mercy did to save the soul. 

♦Those who reject the ransom must pay the penalty still. 



THE 80UL. Ill 

Thou ever-thinking, deathless soul! 
When yonder planets cease to roll — 
When moons all fade, and in his turn 
The sun of day shall cease to burn — 
When at the last loud trumpet's sound, 
The heav'ns come tumbling to the ground — 
When mountains, loosening to and fro, 
Fall crashing on the plains below — 
When waves, which dash on every shore. 
Lie sleeping there to dash no more — 
When cities, castles, temples, towers, 
And kingdoms, too, with all their powers. 
Are on the last great burning day 
Consum'd in flames and pass away — 
When time, O soul, its course has run. 
Then thy existence, just begun, 
Shall still continue on and be 
Commensurate with Deity, 
When sun or moon no longer shines, 
Then thou shalt pass to other climes 
f Unhurt by burning seas and skies,) 
To live a life that never dies. 
Thou may'st in heavenly light abide, 
Close by the reigning Saviour's side; 
Thou may'st in bitter weeping go 
Unsav'd to fiery deeps below. 
And live, alas! in some sad place 
Far distant from thy Maker's face. 
Whate'er thy fate or state may be. 
Thy life-time is eternity. 

O, thou immortal soul of man! 
Who can thy secret workings scan. 
Or comprehend, with deepest thought. 



112 THE SOUL. 

Tliy form, thy nature, curious vfrouglit 
And put within this mortal frame, 
("A vital spark, a heavenly flame, "3 
With force amazing to control 
The vrorks of life, and guide the whole 
To righteous or to evil ends, 
Just as the ruling motive tends 
To lead thee on, mysterious power! 
From day to day, from hour to hour. 
Thy recollection, clear and vast, 
Can never fail thee, but 'twill last 
While endless ages onward rollf 
Still strong abiding in the soul. 
Where'er thou art when time is past, 
(In happiness or wo, at last, j 
Thy recollection, vast and great. 
Must needs connect this present state 
With that which shall hereafter be — 
Join time to all eternity. 
Thy conscious sense of good or ill 
Will deep remain within thee still; 
Where'er thou art, in joy or pain, 
'Twill make thee feel thy loss or gain, 
Is consequent to thee alone, 
Of choice which was and is thine own. 



PART V. 



1. Addkess to the Sun. 

3. Address to the Sun, continued. 

3. The Sea. 

4. The Sea Again. 

5. Perished Cities and Nations. 



ADDRESS TO THE SUN. 

O Sun! e'er since thy rays at first 
Upon the vast creation burst, 
Thou hast been spreading light afar, 
From moon to moon, from star to star — 
Hast been for thousand, thousand years, 
The radiant point of rolling spheres. 

Hadst thou a tongue to speak and tell 
What creatures on these planets dwell, 
Methinks thou wouldst not, couldst not fail, 
To tell a long and pleasing tale 
Of what thou seest from day to day 
On worlds of wonder far aw^ay. 

Resplendent Sun! Lo! thou dost see 

The distant orb of Mercury. 

And have they flowing streamlets there 

Which echo to the sounding air? 

And have they sunny fields and plains 

Where one unceasing Spring-time reigns? 

And thou dost see where fiery Mars 

Is blazing out amid the stars. 

And have they cities growing therf^ 

Magnificent, and tall, and fair, 

Where commerce spreads her ample stores 

Upon a thousand shining shores? 



116 ADDRESS TO THE SUK. 

So tliou dost see where Venus flies, 
The brightest planet in the skies. 
And are there nations spreading o'er 
That beauteous world from shore to shore? 
And have those nations reigning kings, 
With schools and courts and all such things? 

And thou dost shine on Pallas too, 
Diffusing light and brightness through 
Her vast domains; and have they there 
Delightful mansions kept with care — 
And do those mansions ring with mirth 
As ours do here upon the earth? 

And shall we pass fair Ceres by? 
"We cannot do this honorably. 
She has her circuit round the sun, 
And may have special glory won 
By high exploits and noble deeds. 
Wherein she other worlds exceeds. 

And are there Seasons, Spring and Fall, 

Upon that bright celestial ball? 

And have they rich producing grounds 

Where all luxuriant fruit abounds? 

And have they gardens, trees and flowers, 

And blooming fields and groves like ours? 

And thou dost shine on Juno's plain, 
The most eccentric of the train. 
And have they wide-spread forests there 
To which the savage beasts repair, 
And rove for thousand, thousand miles, 
Through trackless wastes and desert wilds? 



ADDRESS TO THE SUN. 117 

So thou dost see with thy bright eyes, 
Where Vesta rolls, the fifth in size. 
And have they mountains, bold and high, 
There rising mighty to the sky? 
And have they rivers, deep and wide, 
There rolling down their ceaseless tide? 

Where Jupiter moves on his way, 
There thou dost shine, creating day. 
And are there on that mighty sphere 
Great battles fought, as there are here? 
Do armies march with flags unfurl' d, 
And navies float around the world? 

And thou dost see where Saturn rolls 
Stupendous on his steady poles. 
Then tell us, do there storms arise 
And sweep along the sounding skies? 
Do thunders there tremendous roll 
And shake that globe from pole to pole? 

So thou dost cast thy rays as far 
As Herschel moves, that sluggish star. 
And do fierce snows and dashing rains 
And hail-storms beat upon his plains? 
Do noisy winds there rudely blow, 
And tides unceasing ebb and flow? 

Millions of miles beyond all this, 
Behold thou seest where Neptune is. 
And have they spacious temples there 
Where thousands meet for praise and pray'r? 
And does that distant world always 
Resound with great Jehovah's praise? 



118 ADDEBSS TO THE SUN, CONTINUED. 

Come tell us now, thou glorious sun! 
Are things like these most surely done 
Upon those worlds which round thee fly, 
All bright and dazzling in the sky? 
Thou answer' St not, but well we know, 
By silent vote thou sayst, 'tis so. 



ADDRESS TO THE SUN, CONTINUED. 

The song which we have thus begun, 
We glad prolong to thee, O Sun! 
Thou seest indeed, with flaming eyes. 
What things are done around the skies; 
But just as well dost see and know 
The things transpiring here below. 

When Paradise was form'd so fair, 
Then thou didst see, for thou wast there, 
And o'er its banks, and bowers, and streams, 
Didst cast abroad thy sunny beams. 
And gild, with brightness of thy face. 
That blessed, holy, happy place. 

When old Methuselah, firm and strong. 
Lived on from age to age so long. 
Then thou didst shine upon his ways, 
And lengthen out his pilgrim days. 
For changeless through the race he run, 
Thou wast his rising, setting Sun. 

When earth, once stain'd with crime and blood, 
Was drown'd beneath the mighty flood— 



ADDRESS TO THE SUN, CONTINUED. 119 

When angels saw, (as angels flew,) 
A ransom' d world emerge to view. 
Then thou didst rise, with splendor bright, 
On that new world to give it light. 

When Egypt rose, and ruled, and fell, 

As old historic records tell, 

Then thou, O Sun, through all those days 

Wast shining still with fadeless rays, 

And constantly surveying all. 

Didst see her rise — didst see her fall. 

When Moses stood on Pisgah high, 
(The chosen place for him to die,) 
And cast his eyes across the strand 
To sweetly view the Pro mis' d Land, 
Then thou wast there, to give him light 
For that transporting, blissful sight. 

When Judah's hero, Joshua, 
Devoutly sought a lengthen' d day, 
That he might be reveng'd upon 
His enemies at Gibeon, 
Then thou, O bright and burning Sun! 
Didst there stand still till it was done. 

When on Mount Sion's radiant height, 
The Temple stood, so fair and bright — 
When 'twas so dazzling to the eye 
Of every stranger passing by, 
'Twas thou, O Sun, with fervid glow, 
Which made the structure glitter so. 

When Christ, the Lord, on earth was born, 
Then thou didst wake that happy morn, 



120 ADDBESS TO THE SUN, CONTINUED. 

And (like the glorious, heavenly light 
Which burst upon the Shepherds' sight, ) 
Pour streams of brightness down to earth 
To gild the spot that gave him birth. 

So when he hung upon the tree 

And died in dreadful agony, 

Then thou didst straight withdraw thy light 

And leave the land all wrapt in night — 

Yes, then thou didst thy glory hide, 

And wouldst not shine when Shiloh died. 

So, on that holy day of rest, 
Which God and men alike have blest. 
When Jesus rose triumphant o'er 
Death and the grave to die no more, 
Then thou, O Sun! with beauteous ray, 
Didst bring the Christian Sabbath Day. 

When first the great Apostle band 

(Whate'er might be their gam or loss,) 

Went forth to tell in every land 

The joyful story of the cross. 

Then thou didst bring, with lustre bright, 

The opening days of Gospel Light. 

When darkness of long ages past 

Was breaking and dispersing fast — 

When reformation, wise and wide, 

Was spreading far on every side, 

Then thou didst shine, with all thy powers. 

To bless those great immortal hours. 

When that momentous time was come, 
(Proclaimed by sounding trump and drum,) 



ADDRESS TO THE SUN, CONTINUED. 121 

That mightiest armies rush'cl to fight 
At Austerlitz, terrific sight! 
Then thou didst see the whole affray, 
And make it an immortal day. 

When shout, and peal, and cannon sound 
Were shaking the creation round — 
When fires of battle, rising high, 
Were blazing frightful to the sky. 
Then thou didst see and shudder too 
O'er what was done at Waterloo. 

When our illustrious fathers rose 
To arms against oppressing foes, 
And all refused to longer own 
Allegiance to the British throne. 
Then thou didst bring a welcome day 
Of freedom to America. 

When right with them supremely reign' d. 
And there they stood and bold proclaim' d 
Their independence all abroad. 
And feared not man, but only God, 
Then thou didst make that day indeed 
Forever glorious to the freed. 

When Christ, at length, assumes command. 
And rules alike o'er sea and land — 
When noise, and strife, and war shall cease. 
And all the earth is hush'd to peace. 
Then thou, Sun, with bright display, 
Shalt bring the grand Millennial day. 

When all the nations join to swell 

The praises of Immanuel — 

When saints and angels, in their strains, 



122 THE SEA, 

Proclaim it loud that Sliiloli reigns, 
Then thou shalt long and sweetly bless 
The earth, with Sabbath hours of rest. 

And when these scenes of time are o'er. 
Then thou shalt set to rise no more ; 
Time past — eternity begun — 
Behold! another, brighter Sun 
Will then arise with fadeless ray, 
And usher in eternal day. 



THE SEA. 



We're told of isles which lonely sleep 
Far in the bosom of the deep. 
Where not a note, through silent dell, 
Is heard from sounding horn or bell — 
Where not a human dwelling stands 
In beauteous form on cultured lands. 
But nature, waste, and wild, and rude, 
Presents one boundless solitude. 

There morning suns perpetual rise 
And pour their brightness from the skies- 
There moons, amid the silent night, 
Diffuse their pale reflected light — 
There seasons come, and seasons go — 
There flowrets bloom and streamlets flow- 
There hills and vales are robed in green, 
But not a liuman footstep 's seen. 

There lies Juan, romantic isle! 
Where fabled Crusoe once was thrown 



THE SEA. 188 

From off the wreck, and lived awhile 
A suff 'ring creature all alone. 
He look'd to see some one appear, 
But look'd in helpless, hopeless grief; 
He trod that isle for many a year. 
Ere mortal come to his relief. 

There stands Helena, where the pride 
Of France, the great Napoleon, died, 
And solemn slept, the mighty dead, 
"With roaring billows round his bed. 
Yes, there he lay from day to day, 
(While seasons came and pass'd aAvay,^ 
Still slumbering in his lonely grave 
Above the sounding ocean wave. 

Thou art a great, a mighty sea. 

Rolling in awful majesty. 

For 'tis thy Maker's sovereign will 

That thou be rolling, rolling still; 

And thus, through earth and air around, 

Is heard the ceaseless thundering sound 

Of thy great waters, evermore 

Loud breaking, dashing on the shore. 

Thou art a bright and beauteous sea. 
Rolling in sparkling brilliancy: 
A thousand rainbows every day 
Appear amid thy silvery spray. 
How oft upon thy weaves are seen 
The white froth and the emerald green? 
And when the raging is most dire, 
Thou roUest then in " foam and fire." 

Thou art an entertaining sea — 
I've loved thee from my infancy; 



124 THE SEA. 

I love to stroll along each strand 
And gather pebbles from the sand — 
I love to see thy billows bound, 
And hear their dashing, splashing sound- 
There is indeed no place for me 
That's like this dark blue, rolling sea. 

Upon the deep there have been done 
The mightiest deeds beneath the sun. 
Say, shall we tell how, on that sea, 
Call'd by the name of Galilee, 
The Saviour walk'd at midnight hour, 
Sustain' d by his Almighty power. 
And, in obedience to his will, 
Made all the raging waves be still? 

Or, shall we tell what hosts were lost 
In Egypt's sea, when Israel cross' d? 
How, by miraculous power of God, 
Some safe amid the opening trod, 
"While others, of that power denied, 
Were overthrown, and quickly died. 
Thus, while the feeble reach' d the shore, 
The mighty fell to rise no more. 

When Spain was famous, rich and brave, 
Columbus launch' d upon the wave. 
And with a strong and sturdy band. 
Went forth to seek an unknown land. 
And when his crew, far out at sea, 
Indulg'd in shameful mutiny. 
Still on he push'd his dangerous way 
Till he had found America. 

The Pilgrims, too, of glorious name, 
Across the great Atlantic came, 



THE SEA, AGAIN. 125 

To seek, amid this Western clime, 
A happy home in future time — 
To seek a better place of rest, 
Where young and old could all be blest, 
And liye Cdespis'd, oppressed no more,) 
Upon the "wild New England shore." 



THE SEA, AGAIN. 

What made old Tyre so rich and great? 
It was not the Phenician State, 
It was not legislation wise 
Which made the port to glory rise. 
It was the constant, costly store 
Of commerce cast upon this shore, 
That made her spread along the sea. 
And rise and shine so gloriously. 

All hail, thou deep, unfathom'd sea! 
What stores of wealth are found in thee? 
The corals and the precious stones, 
Which glitter round imperial thrones— 
The diamonds and the sparkling gems 
Adorning kingly diadems — 
Bright pearls, and costliest things that be. 
Are gather' d from the roaring sea. 

The Romans sought to take and keep 
Possession of the rolling deep; 
They ruled it long with flags unfurl'd, 
Because indeed they ruled the world. 
The Carthagenians ruled there, too, 



126 THE SEA, AGAIN. 

Hence, Rome had more than she could do, 
At times, to hold the sovereign sway 
Against them on the battle day. 

The Grecians, fierce, and brave, and bold, 

Essay'd, through bloody wars, to hold 

The trident of disputed seas 

Against their veteran enemies. 

The Persians, in their pomp and pride, 

Oft met them on the rolling tide 

To wrest the sceptre from their hand. 

But fail'd more here than on the land. 

Great Britain, strong, and brave, and free. 
Long held the sway upon the sea; 
She ruled it wide from shore to shore, 
Two hundred years of fame and more. 
In days when Nelson had command, 
Her name was spread through every land, 
Because of mighty vict'ries gain'd 
On mighty waters, where she reign'd. 

We've stood aghast and seen the sight 
Of navies dashing to the fight; 
We've seen the flames rise high and higher, 
From burning brigs and fleets on fire — 
We've seen the ocean's mighty flood 
Oft ting'd and stain'd with human blood, 
And heard the cannon's dismal roar. 
Loud sounding to the distant shore. 

There are no storms which wildly rise 
By day or night upon the skies- 
There are no winds which rudely blow 
On mountain heights or plains below— 



THE SEA, AGAIN. 127 

There are no tempests roaring loud, 
With lightnings flashing from the cloutl. 
Like those that beat, nor beat in vain, 
Upon the wide, wild rolling main. 

O thou enrag'd, wild raving sea! 
Where howling storms sweep terribly, 
Thy foaming billows rise so high 
They almost reach the pillowy sky; 
Then dreadful on those billows toss'd, 
The ship and priceless crew are lost, 
And there the fearful and the brave 
Together find a watery grave. 

Ah, yes! thou art a ruthless deep. 
O'er which ten tliousands bitter weep. 
For all their earthly joys, O Sea! 
Are swallow 'd up and lost in thee. 
Low in thy dark, unfathom'd bed, 
Lay fathers, brothers, sisters — dead; 
Yea, countless loved ones in despair 
Have perished quick and dreadful there. 

While now, upon the midnight gale, 
Is often heard the piercing wail 
Of mourners, on the ocean shore, 
Who weep for those thej^'ll see no more — 
Whose bodies dowm in dismal caves 
Lie toss'd about, the sport of weaves, 
And there in lonely deeps decay 
While generations pass away: 

Yet holy angels wing their flight 
Across these waters, day and night, 
That they may faithful vigils keep 



128 PEEISHED CITIES AND NATIONS. 

O'er loved ones slumbering in the deep. 
They've watch'd them there for ages past — 
They'll watch them long as time shall last, 
Then all alike, from land and sea, 
Will rise to immortality. 



PERISHED CITIES AND NATIONS. 

Where now is Carthage, great and free, 

With her Republic like to Rome? 

She stood in glory on the sea, 

And call'd the rolling deep her home. 

Where is the treasure that she sought 

In distant climes from day to day — 

Where is the plunder that she brought 

From Egypt and Sardinia? 

Where is the city, with its trade — 

Its merchant men renown' d of old — 

Its courts and halls in marble laid, 

And heaps of glitt'ring Spanish gold? 

Where are those high imperial seats 

On which her statesmen sat in fame — 

And where the thousand strong built fleets 

With which she conquered on the main? 

Where are her warriors, mighty men, 

That march'd uncheck'd through Italy — 

And where the gallant Hannibal, 

Who led them there to victory? 

Where are her sages, senators, 

And soldiers brave who crossed the Rhone — 

Her works of art — her spoils of war, 



PERISHED CITIES AND NATIOKS. 139 

And all the things she caird her own? 
This Commonwealth has perish' d quite— 
Has perish' d so with all its store, 
No mortal now can tell the site 
Where Carthage stood upon the shore. 

The land of Edom— where is she? 
All waste and desolate, indeed; 
She's scarcely left one thrifty tree. 
Or grass sufficient for a mead. 
Yet once a mighty people lived. 
And spread illustrious through that clime; 
They homage from the world receiv'd 
And greatly prospered in their time. 
There gayest mansions nobly stood. 
With fields and fruits and flocks around— 
There princes dwelt, both wise and good, 
And ablest farmers till'd the ground. 
There cities, too, were grandly built. 
Which glitter' d brightly in the sun- 
There blood of battle oft was spilt 
And signal vict'ries proudly won. 
But now there's nothing to be seen 
But desolations all around; 
There are no fields in cheerful green, 
Nor flowrets springing from the ground. 
The costly villa, bright and fair, 
jN"o more appears amid that land; 
Alas! there's little, little there. 
But barren wastes and drifting sand. 

Where is the land of Palestine, 

To which the pilgrims, fiU'd with fears, 

(In desert lands almost unseen, J 



130 PERISHED CITIES AND NATIONS. 

Pursued their way for forty years? 
Where is the Sion of that land, 
The place of holy joy and mirth, 
On which a city once did stand — 
The fairest known upon the earth? 
Where is the structure God himself 
Requir'd to be erected there — 
A structure so supremely grand 
None others could with it compare? 
Where are those brightly gilded domes, 
Once so enchanting to the sight. 
Where kings and princes had their homes 
Upon the lovely Sion's height? 
Where is the Hall where Christ was tried — 
Where is the Grave at which he wept — 
The Cross on which he hung and died — 
The Sepulchre in which he slept? 
They once were there, Cas we are taught, ) 
They had their own appointed day. 
But now they've dwindled into naught — 
They've perish' d all, and pass'd away. 
There was the mansion of the Priest — 
There was the Prophet's blest abode — 
There was the Consecrated Feast, 
And there the " Glory of the Lord." 
There was the anthem ringing loud — 
There was the flame of sacrifice — 
There was the thickly gathering cloud 
Of incense rising to the skies. 
, There was the trumpet's thrilling blast. 
Reverberating through the air. 
Reminding Israel, as it passed, 
The hour had come for solemn prayer. 
There was the Castle and the Court— 



PERISHED CITIES AND NATIONS. 131 

The Pinnacle and Brazen "Wall — 
The mighty Tower — protecting Fort — 
The Palace and the Judgment Hall. 
But now the Turk, with ruthless tread, 
Is daily passing o'er that ground — 
The Jew is mingling with the dead, 
And mighty ruins spread around. 

Where now is Corinth, first in taste 

Of any city e'er was built. 

But yet in morals all debas'd, 

And sunk in vileness, shame and guilt? 

Her growth was slow, but bright and fair, 

(She stood near the Ionian Sea,) 

There was no city anywhere 

More costly, rich, and grand than she. 

There was the Statue of the Sun — 

Of Jupiter and Yenus too, 

And Gods of all the Pantheon 

Set forth to constant public view. 

She had her columns, as we're told, 

Displaying taste the most refin'd, 

With Capitals of beauteous mould, 

And bases of Corinthian kind. 

She had her temples, great in size. 

Adorn' d with costliest works of art; 

With paintings, dazzling to the eyes, 

And music, thrilling to the heart. 

She had her curious, costly baths — 

She had her celebrated games — 

She had her sacred cenotaphs. 

And other things of wondrous names. 

Her public buildings were, indeed, 

Magnificent beyond compare; 



132 PERISHED CITIES AND NATIONS. 

In this respect she took the lead 
Of gorgeous cities everywhere. 
But yet she was a dismal place — 
So stain'd with crimes of blackest hue, 
Her very name was a disgrace 
To Christian men and Heathen too. 
She, therefore, with her glory fell, 
And almost perish'd from the land; 
There just remains enough to tell 
That she was once superbly grand. 

Where now, alas! is ancient Greece, 
That country of such great renown; 
Her praise on earth can never cease — 
Her sun of glory ne'er go down? 
Where are the States of that bright land 
Which furnish' d such prodigious men; 
They tow' ring stood, perhaps will stand 
Unequal' d on the earth again. 
Where is the place that Homer sung 
In strains so lofty, sweet and free; 
The hills and vales for ages rung 
With his undying harmony? 
Which was the State that gave to men 
The eloquent Demosthenes? 
And which one gave, (we ask again,) 
The nobler man, great Socrates? 
From whence came Solon, honor'd sage, 
Who lived there at an early day. 
The wisest statesman of his age, 
And foremost of the world, they say. 
These men to act for war or peace. 
Each in his proper time and place, 
Were first in all the land of Greece, 



PERISHED CITIES AND NATIONS. 133 

And foremost of the human race. 

Men oft are into action brought, 

Both on the land and on the sea, 

But there was ne'er a battle fought 

Like that of great Thermopylae. 

Where now is Athens, call'd the Star, 

Sometimes the Sun of Attica? 

Her light was bright and shone afar — 

'Tis shining to the present day. 

Where is her Capitol, so grand — 

So beautiful, as well as great, 

Where princes came from all the land 

To manage the affairs of State? 

Where are her forts, both high and strong, 

Once fill'd with hosts of fighting men? 

Where are her arsenals, wide and long. 

With marshal'd troops protecting them? 

Where are her streets, so constant fill'd 

With citizens, and strangers too — 

With scholars to perfection drill'd, 

All seeking after something new? 

Where is Minerva's Fane? ('Tis lost, J) 

Though built at that time easily. 

Yet built at such stupendous cost, 

'Twas one of matchless brilliancy. 

Where is the place where Lysias plead— 

Lysippus at his sculpture wrought — 

Where Aristides fought and bled, 

And Plato long and nobly taught? 

Say, are those courts remaining yet. 

The richest mortals ever saw, 

Where learned Athenians often met 

To study and to practice law? 

Were there not streets on purpose made 



134 PERISHED CITIES AND NATIONS. 

For pleasure and for public show, 

Where ran the lengthen' d colonnade— 

Where open'd wide the portico? 

Where are they now? the voice says, "Where?" 

And spreads its solemn echo round — 

These things of greatest cost and care 

Are mould'ring all beneath the ground. 

Demosthenes tried hard to save 

His country from insidious foes; 

His eloquence was all in vain, 

She fell far faster than she rose. 

There is a land calPd by this name, 

That's still existing on the earth, 

But nothing in her light and fame 

Like that which gave Lycurgus birth. 

The ancient Greece has pass'd away, , 

With her illustrious, far-famed men; 

They had their glory and their day. 

But these will never be again. 

Where is great Eome, which justly fills 

The largest space in history? 

The city stood on seven hills. 

And stands there still, " A Mystery." 

What she's to be we dare not say 

Until this mystery somehow ends; 

That Eome's to perish terribly, 

Her course throughout most clear portends. 

An Angel, standing on the brink, 

Cast down a mill-stone in the sea, 

Exclaiming, "thus shall Babel sink," 

And that will end the mystery. 

Her great Republic was destroy' d 

Amid Pharsalia's dreadful fight, 



PERISHED CITIES AND NATIONS. 135 

While Actiuin and Philippi 

Put Koman freedom all to flight. 

Then high the throne of Caesar rose, 

At that sad day — ill-fated hour! 

When Roman patriots, friends and foes. 

Were forced to yield to tyrant power. 

Great autocrats now held the sway 

O'er all the world, five hundred years, 

Till at the last the throne gaye way 

And fell, 'mid shrieks and groans and tears. 

The old Dominion first was broke 

By armies rising mad within, 

And bravely breaking ofi" the yoke 

Which made an empire groan in sin. 

Next barbarous hordes from every side, 

Rush'd furious through, from place to place, 

Revengers of the Roman pride — 

Destroyers of the human race. 

To North and South, to East and West, 

They bore the costliest things away, 

Till all that mighty Rome possess' d. 

To waste and ruin, fell a prey. 

Thus perished Rome with all her fame — 

With all her greatness and her store. 

She lives in hist'ry and in name, 

But Roman glory is no more. 



If other States have shared this fate, 
'Tis wise in us to mark it well. 

And ask ourselves, why nations great 
Have thus decay'd, declin'd and fell. 

Was it for want of proper love, 
To justice and humanity— 



136 PERISHED CITIES AKD NATIONS. 

Contempt of God who rules above — 
Indulgence in profanity? 

Say, was it crime, debasing crime, 
Both long and mad persisted in. 

That made them suffer in their time 
And fall from what they once had been! 

Was it because in civil strife, 
Prevailing long and sad and sore. 

These mighty nations lost their life 
And sunk at length to rise no more? 

A civil war has here just ceas'd, 
And yet we do not seem to be 

Subdu'd and humbled in the least, 
Beneath the dread calamity. 

A voice which thunders as it goes. 
Comes falling solemn on our ears; 

Arousing us from false repose — 
Awaking all our slumb'ring fears. 

It tells us of corruption vast, 
Prevailing fearful through the land, 

And other scourgings coming fast. 
The trembling nation can't withstand. 

It tells us of apostacy, 
Andjudgments hanging o'er us, 

To sink us in some fiery sea, 
As Admah fell before us. 

Above the ground on which we tread, 
Is fearful seen from hour to hour, 



PERISHED CITIES AND NATIONS. 137 

The flames of vengeance burning red, 
All waiting eager to devour. 

A subtile foe* without, within, 

CSome fondly look to it to save,) 
Is working now, and long has been, 

To dig this mighty nation's grave. 

Whate'er it brings to some of loss — 

Whate'er it brings to all of pain, 
We must be purg'd from sin and dross 

Or this Republic can't remain. 

Let gospel truth like precious leav'n. 

Be here difFus'd, as yet it may. 
And then we'll shine like stars of heav'n — 

Enduring as the sun of day. 



^Infidelity. 



PART VI. 



Home, and special objects, pleasures, endearments and 
reminiscences connected with it. When the author speaks 
in his own name, he does not always mean himself, but 
personates some other one who has been or may be the 
actor. • 

1. No Place like Home. 

2. The Happy Family. 

3. Departed Ones. 

4. The Willow Tree. 

5. The Streamlet. 

6. Youthful Days. 

7. All Passing Away. 



NO PLACE LIKE HOME. 

I've travel'd through that ancient land, 
Where Joseph once held high command- 
Where Moses, too, majestic trod, 
And wrought for Israel and for God; 
But^ 0, there'' s nothing^ 7ioiJung there^ 
Which can loith happy home compare. 

I've been in China many a day, 
And heard her people praise and pray; 
I've seen the place her monarch reigns, 
And cross' d her fairest fields and plains; 
But yet there's nothing^ nothing there, 
WJiich can with happy home compare. 

I've been where Philadelphia stood — 
Where Sardis rose, both great and good- 
Where Thyatira prosper' d well — 
Where guilty Smyrna sinn'd and fell; 
But yet there'' s nothing, nothing there, 
Wldch can with happy home compare. 

I've drank the water from the brook, 
Where Jewish tribes of old partook; 
I've roved through ancient Palestine, 
And all her works and wonder? seen; 
But yet there's nothing, nothing there. 
Which can with happy home compare. 



143 NO PLACE LIKE HOME. 

I've stood on It'ly's famous shore, 
Once so renown' cl for classic lore — 
I've been vrliere Virgil sweetly sung, 
And Tully spoke with burning tongue; 
But yet iliere'8 notliing^ nothing there., 
Which can with happy home compare. 

I've been where Rome once proudly rose — 
Where still the beauteous Tiber flows — 
Where long the mighty Caesars reign' d, 
And earth's best classic men were train'd; 
But yet there^8 nothing^ nothing there., 
Which can loith happy home compare. 

I've been in London, on the Thames, 
And seen her sportsmen at their games; 
I've been in Paris, blithe and gay, 
Where pride and fashion bear the sway; 
But yet there'' 8 nothing., nothing there., 
Which can with happy home compare. 

I've been in Lyons and Marseilles — 
In Dublin, Perth, and Glasgow, more — 
Talk'd often with the Prince of Wales, 
And travers'd Northern Europe o'er; 
But yet there's nothing^ nothing there.. 
Which can with happy home compare. 

I've been in Chili and Peru, 

I've been in Nova Scotia, too — 

I've been where Greenland spreads abroad 

And shows the wonders of a God; 

But yet there's nothing., nothing there., 

Which can with happy home compare. 



THE HAPPY FAMILY. 143 

I've roved tliroiigh Afric's wastes and wilds, 
I've trod the ransom' d Sandwicli Isles, 
Pass'd often through the famous gate 
"Which opens to the Golden State; 
But yet there's noiJiing^ votMng there^ 
Which can with hapjpy home compare. 

I've been at great Niagara's Falls, 
Where deep to deep, in thunder calls; 
I've heard the mighty torrent's roar 
Reverberate from shore to shore; 
But yet there's nothing^ nothing there, 
WJiich can iciih happy home compare. 

I've been throughout the Tropic clime. 
Where earth and air and skies combine 
To make those lands, by heaven's devise. 
Almost a perfect paradise. 
But still there'' s nothing, notMng there, 
Which can icith happy home compare. 

I'll therefore never more complain, 
But at my home content remain. 
And here I'll fondly live and toil 
Upon my own dear native soil; 
For, 0, there''s nothing anywhere. 
Which can at all with home compare. 



THE HAPPY FAMILY. 

O yes we're here, all joyful here, 
Fond loving one another; 

The father and the mother dear, 
The sister and the brother; 



144 THE HAPPY FAMILY. 

We're here as blest and happy band 
As lives within this favor' d land. 

The father — he's the steady one, 

Engag'd in constant toil; 
From morning until evening sun, 

He cultivates the soil. 
Going, coming night and day, 
In all that's done, he leads the way. 

He's kind, indulgent, wise and just — 
He's honor'd, loved and fear'd; 

The father's word and precepts must 
Be strictly here rever'd. 

He leads his household in the prayer, 

And makes their weal his tender care. 

The mother — she stands next to him, 

A pious, faithful dame; 
No matter what command he gives. 

She always gives the same. 
No discord here, no, not a note, 
She yields — he gives the casting vote. 

The boys stand next in station round 
This place which gave them birth, 

They help to break the fallow ground. 
And cultivate the earth. 

They work through all the year content. 

Nor suffer time to be misspent. 

Industrious, frugal, well-dispos'd. 

In conversation free; 
Whate'er is censur'd or oppos'd, 

They bear it patiently. 



THE HAPPY FAMILY. 145 

They're generous-hearted, yet so brave, 
Ko one will be another's slave. 

The girls we mention last of all, 

So lovely and so fair, 
The home would be no home at all 

Without their presence there. 
The daughter weaves more than the son 
The chain that binds all hearts in one. 

We gather here around the hearth, 

When hands are all at leisure, 
And while we take our fill of mirth, 

Of joy and social pleasure. 
The hours Call other things forgot,) 
So sweetly pass, we miss them not. 

We also frequent join and sing 

With loud and cheerful voices, 
Till roofs aloft and ceilings ring. 

And every heart rejoices. 
'Tis thus we spend much time together, 
Through rainy days and winter weather. 

Sometimes our friends, with well-plied powers, 

Come in to chatter with us. 
And then we have the happiest hours 

Our Maker deigns to give us. 
With wit, and fun, and repartee. 

We pass our evenings merrily. 

We often take the prints and read 

About the world's improvements, 
What things the nations have decreed, 

And all their mighty movements. 



^46 DEPARTED ONES. 

We wonder, as we read on through, 
At what the world is coming to. 

Sometimes we join — all join in play, 

For social recreation; 
At other times, we silently 

Incline to meditation. 
But let these things be as they may, 
We sweetly pass our lives away. 

And when our weekly work is done, 
And its fatigues are ended — 

When Sunday hours are fully come, 
With better thoughts attended, 

Lo, then we put vain things away, 

And solemn keep the Sabbath day. 

A more delightful, happy place 

Than this you cannot find; 
There's cheerfulness on every face — 

Contentment in each mind. 
May Heaven, defending, never cease 
To bless this house and home with peace. 



DEPARTED ONES. 

Alas! there's nothing steadfast here. 

We all are mortal born; 
There's not a joy without a tear. 

Or rose without a thorn. 
Love fondly weaves the golden chain, 
But death breaks all the links again. 



DEPARTED ONES. 147 

The dearest friendsliips formed below, 

However strong they be, 
Have mingled with them hours of wo, 

And months of misery. 
Fast flow the tears from sorrow's eye, 
When friends belov'd and kindred die. 

Our father and our mother dear 

Have both resigned their breath, 
Their names are fondly cherish'd here, 

But they are cold in death. 
Low in the grave -yard now they lay, 
And sleep the rolling years away. 

"VVe pass along the paths they trod, 

When we to church repair; 
We seek them in the house of God, 

But O they are not there. 
We ask, " Where are they?" but in vain — 
No answer is returned again. 

Our family group is sad and few, 

Alas! we're stricken-hearted. 
For lately, with Amelia, too. 

We have forever parted. 
She's slumb'ring in death's cold embrace. 
Borne to her last, long resting place. 

When sympathizing kindred come 

To visit our abode, 
At rising or at setting sun, 

'Tis in a pensive mood. 
Hearts bleed, and many a tear is shed 
In memory of Amelia dead. 



148 THE WILLOW TREE. 

Another link is rent away — 

Leander, too, has died; 
We've laid him in the cold, cold clay, 

Close by his sister's side. 
And there they sleep, the lovely brave, 
Both tenants of an early grave. 

Death will advance vrith steady step, 
Loud knocking at each door. 

And summon us in haste away 
To dwell on earth no more. 

O'er such a fate 'tis vain to grieve. 

From wasting death there's no reprieve. 

Our households may be small or great — 

They may be low or high; 
This can't affect our mortal state — 

We're born, all born to die. 
Where some are now, soon all must be — 
Fixed in the long eternity. 



THE WILLOW TREE. 

Before my cottage stands a tree. 

Of noblest size and form, 
Which spreads and towers majestic'ly, 

Alike 'mid calm and storm. 

When I was but a little child, 
Say ten years old, not more, 

I found it growing lone and wild 
Upon the river shore. 






THE WILLOW TREE. 149 

'Twas near the place I sat to fish; 

I said, Cand drew my line,) 
Let others choose what tree they wish, 

But this one shall he mine. 

I took my knife and cut a mark, 

As careful as I could, 
Upon its young and tender bark. 

To make my purpose good. 

A little distance from the tree, 

I also gladly found 
A spring of water, pure and free. 

Arising from the ground. 

The thought at once rose in my mind, 

This water and this tree 
"Will surely make, when they're combin'd, 

A handsome property. 

I quickly cut a shallow drain, 

(It cost but little toil,) 
And brought the water down amain 

To cover all that soil. 

And there the water constant ran — 

And there the willow grew. 
Till I arose to be a man, 

And thought of marriage too. 

My father then propos'd to share 

What land he had with me; 
I said, " Pray give me mine just where 

Now stands the willow tree." 

I thus obtain' d a goodly lot, 
Fair fronting to the road. 



150 THE WILLOW TREE. 

And there 1 built an humble cot, 
Near where the water flow'd. 

The willow cast its ample shade 
Around my cottage door, 

And there my children fondly play'd, 
Till childhood days were o'er. 

The tree has now for sixty years 
Been growing by that rill, 

Nor has it ceas'd, for aught appears — 
'Tis growing, growing still. 

This is my darling tree, indeed, 
The joy of both my eyes; 

It does, for me, all trees exceed, 
That grow beneath the skies. 

We were companions in our youth — 
We will be so when old; 

I would not part with it, in truth, 
For all its weight in gold. 

But O there's one thing very clear: 
This tree, so strong and brave, 

Will still be growing proudly here 
When I am in my grave. 

When all I've done is quite forgot. 
And nothing car'd for more. 

It will be standing in this lot, 
Majestic as before. 

And now I make this one request, 
("Give ear, my friends, to me, j 

When I am dead, lay me to rest 
Beneath this willow tree. 



THE WILLOW TREE. 151 

And when the distant time shall come 

That this brave willow dies, 
And every branch, which from it hung, 

In wasting ruin lies — 

Then let its trunk be skillful wrought 

Into a paling strong, 
And put around my lonely grave — 

To guard it safe and long. 

And if there's more than needful be 

To fence that sacred spot, 
Then let the rest of this great tree 

Be put around the lot. 

And thus, as I protected it 

Through all my growing days, 
It will protect both me and mine 

Till it, in turn, decays. 

Our little dust, which then remains, 

Will mingle here together, 
Through beating storms, and falling rains, 

And changes of all weather. 

But this great diff 'rence there will be, 

'Twixt dying trees and men: 
The first will perish totally — 

The latter rise again. 

Upon the Last Great Day, dear Tree! 

Your dust and mine will sever; 
Lo, yours will go to nothing then. 

But mine will live forever. 



153 THE STKEAMLET. 



THE STREAMLET. 

Thou brightly flowing stream! 

Thou art most dear to me, 
For, lo! I often fondly dream 

Through midnight hours of thee. 

There once I joyful stray' d, 

All in my youthful pride, 
And up and down the streamlet play'd, 

Close hy the water side. 

It has been many years 
Since I was on that ground, 

But still, unceasing in my ears, 
I hear the streamlet sound. 

There is the wide-spread tree, 
Where oft I've careless laid, 

And sung both loud and merrily. 
Amid the Summer shade. 

There is the solid rock. 

Where, with the dangling hook, 
I've sat to catch the shining fish 

And draw them from the brook. 

There is the lovely pool. 

Where, morning, noon, and night, 
I (in the water, soft and cool,) 

Once bath'd with sweet delight. 

I now bathe in the lake, 
And sometimes in the sea, 



THE STREAMLET. 153 

But O there is no bathing place 
So dear as this to me. 

The stream would frequent rise, 

And wildly overflow, 
And rush impetuous in its course 

O'er fields and plains below. 

Once, on a rainy day, 

(The stream flow'd deep and wide,) 
An empty boat came floating down 

Upon the rolling tide. 

I took the crook I had, 

And drew the boat to shore; 
Then ventur'd in, a silly lad, 

Without a guide, or oar. 

Out in the flood it went; 

I toil'd, but toil'd in vain, 
(Till all my youthful strength was spent,) 

To bring it back again. 

And now I sometimes dream, 

In stillness of the night. 
That I am sinking in that stream, 

And wake amidst my fright. 

Alas! 'tis all a dream, 

My youthful days are o'er, 
I'll ne'er again float on the stream. 

Nor tread its grassy shore. 

But yet the brook is there — 

Fast flowing to the sea; 
Its sounds are echoed on the air, 

And will for ages be. 

G* 



154 YOUTHFUL DAYS. 

When I am in my grave, 
^ And tread the earth no more, 

It will be rolling here, as braye 
And beauteous as before. 

The streamlet, from its source, 
Furnish' d with full supplies, • 

Flows on perpetual in its course, 
And mocks when mortal dies. 

Thou brightly flowing stream! 

Thou art most dear to me; 
Long as I live, I'll think, I'll dream. 

Through midnight hours, of thee. 



YOUTHFUL DAYS. 

When I was young, a thousand] oys 
Beset me round, where'er I stray'd, 

For numerous were the idol toys 
My youthful hands, for pleasure, made. 

The weary day I often broke, 
Eeclining sweetly at my ease 

Beneath the foliage of the oak — 
The willow and the poplar trees. 

The woodlands, too, were my retreat, 
Where oftentimes I tarried long. 

Fond list'ning to the music sweet 
There carol' d by the feather' d throng* 

Or, on the mossy turf repos'd, 
Beneath the mountain's craggy steep j 



ALL PASSING AWAY. 155 

The gently whisp'ring winds disposed 
My weary, wand'ring mind to sleep. 

Or on the margin of the brook, 

Meand'ring through the lonely vale, 

I sat and read some story book. 
Delighted with the pleasing tale. 

'Twas then those cheerful fields and meads, 
Extending round my father's dome. 

Became the seat of youthful deeds, 
Which long endear the name of home. 

But, farewell novf! another tear 
Be to their fond remembrance given; 

They're to my recollection dear. 
And will be till my home's in heaven. 

There, there such joy perpetual springs — 

Such sacred pleasures flow, 
That I may soon forget the things 

I fondly lov'd below. 

The scenes on earth, when once they're past, 

Are past and gone for aye; 
But those above, unchanging, last 

Through an eternal day. 



ALL PASSING AWAY. 

The flowrets that blossom so lovely in Spring, 
And cast their sweet fragrance abroad on the air — 
The wild birds that come to us on the swift wing, 
And then to some far distant climate repair — 
The beauties reflected upon the broad sky— 



156 ALL PASSING AWAf. 

The sunlight that bursts forth so brightly at noon — 

The roses which spring up in Summer to die — 

The lilies, which wither and perish so soon, 

Are transient, things transient, they change with each day, 

And tell us weWe passi7ig, all passing aicay. 

The snow that is falling, fast falling around. 

And melting profusely beneath the bright sun — 

The winds that are sweeping, fierce sweeping the ground — 

The streamlets which onward unceasingly run — 

The sear -leaves that wither and fall from the trees — 

The creatures that come forth of untimely birth — 

The broken waves rolling swift back to the seas. 

And vain empty shadows that cover the earth. 

Are transient, things transient, they change with each day, 

And tell us iceWe passing^ all passing away. 

The gems which appear in the dew drops of morn — 

The soft mellow lustre which lingers at eve — 

The notes rolling out from the hunter's shrill horn — 

The tidings of gladness we sometimes receive — 

The dreams that attend us amid silent sleep — 

The hours of reflection (how soon they are past,) 

The tales oft repeated to make mortals weep — 

The times of true happiness coming at last, 

Are transient, things transient, they change with each day. 

And tell us loe'^re passing^ all passing away. 

The season of Summer, so fervid and bright — 
The season of Autumn abounding in fruit — 
The Spring coming in with the sweetest delight, 
And Winter, so hard on the fowl and the brute, 
Are seasons which cannot with us long remain, 
Though oft we desire it with suppliant heart. 
Yet always desire it entirely in vain— 



ALL PASSING AWAY. 157 

The season that cometli comes soon to depart. 

They're transient, things transient, they change with each 

day, 
And tell ^ts weWe passing^ all passing aicay. 

The rocks rolling down from the mountain's bold steeps— 

The forests uprooted by wild winds that blow— 

The sands from the desert all drifted in heaps, 

And high tow'ring fabrics laid prostrate and low. 

Vast regions around us destroy'd by the flood — 

Vast kingdoms pervaded with anarchy dire — 

Great battle-fields smoking with soldiers' fresh blood, 

And navies stupendous burnt up in the fire. 

Are left, strangely left, to destruction a prey, 

To tell us we^re passing^ all passing atcay. 

Great cities erected on great ocean shores, 
And growing immensely through ages of time — 
Great battlements built by the brave army corps, 
Along the old banks of the Thames and the Rhine. 
The castle, the palace, the house of the king— 
The temple prodigious, and solemn and grand — 
The chambers immortal where amateurs sing, 
And buildings of wonder that spread o'er the land, 
Are transient, things transient, they haste to decay. 
And tell us we're passing^ all passing away. 

Whole nations have fallen, great nations of men 
Have fallen on death-sleep, prolong' d and profound; 
No voice but Jehovah's can wake them again 
And call them to action from under the ground. 
Great spirits immortal! they ne'er can forget 
The part which in mighty transactions they bore; 
They fondly remember their birth places yet. 
But places that knew them, will know them no more. 



158 ALL PASSING AWAY. 

They rose in their greatness — their epitaphs say, 
Then sunk with their glory, and all pass'd away. 

Great stars of creation, resplendent and bright, 
Once marshal'd in heaven, in grandest array — 
Great comets refulgently speeding their flight 
And filling us mortals with fear and dismay, 
Have left their old orbits all vacant and blank — 
Have left them, it may be, for some other sphere; 
But teach us, whate'er be our station or rank, 
A lasting existence can never be here. 
The heav'ns are changing, the earth must decay — 
All time things whatever are passing away. 

Where now are the Fathers so famous of old, 

Apostles and prophets so holy and wise. 

And where are the multitudes, whom we are told 

They faithful instructed and led to the skies? 

Though once they were dwelling in bodies of clay. 

And sufier'd as we do from trouble and care. 

Yet now in the depths of the grave-yard they lay, 

All silently sleeping— all sepulchred there. 

The great men and noble, the good and the brave. 

Are sinking alike to the sleep of the grave. 

O, where are the men who begun this great fight? 

Say, where are the soldiers who first took the field, 

Resolv'd to proceed in the cause with their might— 

To bleed and to suffer, but never to yield? 

They've fallen— the warriors have slept their last sleep. 

The sun of their glory has gone down at noon; 

The nation that loved them all bitterly weep. 

That mortals so noble should perish so soon. 

Thus fought they and fell they— now mouldering in clay, 

They tell us we^re passingy all passing away. 



ALL PASSING AWAY. 159 

O, God of creation, Great Maker of all! 

Thou guide of the pilgrims, to thee would we call. 

Conduct us, blind creatures, our pilgrimage through— 

Unceasingly succor and strengthen us too; 

Then bring us triumphant to where we shall be. 

Forever made perfect and happy in thee — 

Where changes, sad changes, and sorrows are o'er — 

Where death and destruction can waste us no more — 

Where all is bright shining and glorious as day, 

And 7iotMng existing can e'er pass away. 



PART VII. 



Earth and heaven are here contrasted in regard to 
beauty, rest and happiness. With it, we have the chris- 
tian seeking the hetter country — his guide to it — his 
mother's influence — his security under the divine care, 
and his assurance of reaching the place of tlie blest. 

1. The Great House We Live In. 

2. The Celestial City. 

3. On This Side Heav'n. 
4 True Happiness. 

5. The One I Love Best. 

6. The Christian Man. 

7. The Bible. 

8. My Mother. 

9. Arm Unseen. 

10. Anchor Hold. 

11. Up in Heav'n. 



i 



THE GREAT HOUSE WE LITE IN. 

Its cov'ring is the sky, 

C Stupendous, arcli, and grand J 
O'er all tlie building high 
Magnificently spann'd. 
Ten thousand lamps, all burning bright, 
Hang glitt'ring here from night to night. 

Its strong foundations laid 
By mighty hand of God, 
On massive rocks are stay'd, 
'Gainst tempest, fire and flood. 
They may be shook, but can't be broke 
By thunder peal or lightning stroke. 

Its pillars huge and tall. 

Rise wondrous to our view; 
They shake, but ne'er can fall 
As other pillars do; 
On moveless bases, lo! they stand. 
Sustain' d by an Almighty hand. 

Thick robes of verdure green, 

Like velvet, round us spread, 
Form the gay carpeting 
On which we mortals tread. 
What texture, wrought like this, before 
E'er cover' d manse or mansion floor? 



164 THE GBEAT HOUSE WE LIVE IK. 

Its furniture consists 

Of tablets, broad and fair — 
Of bureaus, curious wrought, 
And mirrors everywhere. 
Nor can we wond'ring creatures tell 
Which forms of beauty here excel. 

Its lights are blazing orbs, 

So burning and so bright, 
We're gazing evermore 
With wonder at the sight. 
Sun, moon, and countless stars withal. 
Combine to light this glitt'ring hall. 

Its fountains, deep and wide. 

Consist of flowing seas. 
Where rolls the ocean tide — 
Where plays the cooling breeze. 
To every place where wants arise. 
These fountains send out full supplies. 

Its decorations bright 

Are found in bounteous stores — 
Some on the mountain's height, 
Some on the ocean's shores. 
Ten thousand thousand sparkling gems, 
Here shine like pearls in diadems. 

Its curtains, widely spread 

Around the earth and sky, 
Enclose the slumb'ring bed, 
Where millions nightly lie. 
They cover and delight us too, 
Inwrought with dark shades, light, and blue. 



THE CELESTIAL CITY. 165 

The sounding winds that blow — 

The seas that loudly roar — 
The waves which constant flow 
And dash upon the shore, 
Spread music, like a rolling tide. 
All through this house where we reside. 

Without a voice or tongue, 
("In sweetest harmony,^ 
Blest hymns are nightly sung 
Here to the Deity. 
With fond, delighted, ravished ears. 
We list the music of the spheres. 

All artists are outdone 

By paintings here that be, 
Bright shining as the sun. 
And wrought so skillfully; • 
That while we gaze, we can't express 
The rapturous feelings we possess. 

But there's another dome, 

Far brighter yet than this, 

Where angels have their home 

In realms of heavenly bliss. 

And soon we'll rise, if we prepare, 

To dwell with shining angels there. 



THE CELESTIAL CITY. 

Great Athens, long and costly reared, 

'Mid far fam'd Attica, 
For ages there in pomp appear'd, 

Bright shining as the day. 



166 THE CELESTIAL CITY. 

She beauteous was, and rung with mirth, 
The pride and joy of all the earth. 

Old Corinth was magnificent — 

A pile of marble white, 
And none who saw her in her prime. 
Could help admire the sight. 
No city in this world below 
Made such a grand, imposing show. 

But there's a city in the sky 

Whose streets are laid in gold, 
Too dazzling for the human eye, 
"While mortal to behold. 
In heavenly brightness there it stands, 
Built by the Great Creator's hands. 

Its twelve foundations strongly laid 

With glitt'ring stones most bright. 
Have mingled colors so display' d 
That angels love the sight. 
And here below, the men of grace 
Are longing, longing for the place. 

Jerusalem, with turrets high, 

Was wondrous to behold, 
But this great city of the sky 
Is built in shining gold. 
'Tis splendid and immortal too, 
Enchanting to the ravish' d view. 

Lo, fancy here completely fails; 

In vain we mortals try 
To form a right conception of 

That city in the sky. 



THE CELESTIAL CITY. 167 

Our laboring minds can do no more 
Than think, and wonder, and adore. 

The glory of creation far 
Is concentrated there; 
No light of sun, or twinkling star. 
Can once with it compare. 
AVhate'er its glory now may be, 
'Twill still increase eternally. 

Its wall, of finest Jasper built. 

Stands grandly there and high; 
Thou mayest, mortal, if thou wilt. 
Soon see it with thine eye. 
While loudest anthems there resound, 
It echoes and prolongs the sound. 

Its gates are three on every side — 

Each one a pearly gate. 
And there forever they abide, 
In strength and glory great. 
These gates stand open every hour, 
All guarded by angelic power. 

Blest city on a shining shore — 
Home of the sav'd and free! 
May we, when toils of life are o'er, 
Forever rest in thee. 
Within thy courts take princely seats, 
Or joyful walk thy golden streets. 



168 ON THIS SIDE HEAV'N. 



ON THIS SIDE HEAY'N. 

Oh. say, is there rest for tlie spirit while here — 
Rest, sweet and abiding, from sorrow and fear — 
Can earth tell of places to which we may flee, 
And rest from all trouble and suff 'ring free? 
Going, coming, waking, sleeping. 
Pallid cheeks are wet with weeping; 
Ah me! no rest to us is giv''n, 
No perfect rest on this side Heaven. 

We go to the halls with rich tapestry hung. 
Where feasting is practiced and music is sung; 
Amidst their wild revels, we ask, " Is it so 
That you are here blest?" and they all answer, " No." 

Eating, drinking, sporting, toiling, 

Pain is still the pleasure spoiling; 

Ah me ! no rest to us is giv'^n, 

No perfect rest on this side Heaven. 

We go where the vot'ries of pleasure resort, 
Where beauty and splendor are decking the court; 
Amidst their diversions, we ask, " Is it so 
That you are here blest?" and they all answer, " No." 
While the chaplet wreaths we're weaving, 
Still o'er faded joys we're grieving; 
Ah me I no rest to us is giv^n^ 
No perfect rest on this side Keax>^n. 

We go to the mansions where princes are dwelling, 
Where heirs to the kingdom are joyfully telling 
Of mighty possessions; we ask, " Is it so 
That you are here blest?" and they all answer, "Nq," 



ON THIS SIDE HEAV'N. 169 

While of thrones and kingdoms hearing, 

Sad disasters still we're fearing; 

Ah me ! no rest to us giv^n, 

No perfect rest on this side Heaven. 

We go to the places where monarchs are crown'd, 
Where thrones are ascended, and terribly round 
Great royalty glitters; we ask, " Is it so 
That you are here blest?" and they all answer, " No." 

Rising, falling, ruling, reigning, 

Man is evermore complaining; 

Ah me ! no rest to us is giv''n, 

No perfect rest on this side Heav''n. 

We go to the countries where men of great name 
Have millions around them proclaiming their fame; 
We list to their shoutings, and ask, " Is it so 
That you are here blest?" and they all answer, "No." 

In distraction still abiding, 

Hope and fear the mind dividing; 

Ah me ! no rest to us is giv'^n. 

No perfect rest on this side Heav'n. 

We go to the places where choristers sing. 

And make the broad welkin with harmony ring; 

We list to their music — we ask, " Is it so 

That you are here blest?" and they all answer, "No." 

While melodious sounds we're making, 

Hearts with grief and pain are breaking; 

Ah me! no rest to us is giv'n, 

No perfect rest on this side Heaven. 

We go to the fountains of science and light, 
Where mortals are drinking by day and by night; 
Amidst their great learning, we ask, " Is it so 
That you are here blest?" and they all answer, " No." 



170 ON THIS SIDE HEAV'N. 

Grievous cares the mind infesting, 
Man is never, never resting; 
Ah me ! no rest to us is giv''n^ 
No perfect rest on this side Tiea'd'n. 

"We go the lands vrhich are charmingly fair, 
And seek, but in vain, for true happiness there; 
Where nature blooms lovely, vs^e ask, " Is it so 
That you are here blest?" and they all answer, " No." 

While these scenes are round us shining, 

Oft in sickness, sad we're pining. 

All me I no rest to us is giv^n^ 

No perfect rest on this side heaven. 

We go to the places where learn' d men and rude 

Are steadily seeking in close solitude. 

Some fancied enjoyments; we ask, " Is it so 

That you are here blest?" and they answer, " No, no." 

Vain the place, the mood, the diet, 

Man is never, never quiet; 

Ten thousand cares will still intrude 

Despite of chosen solitude. 

We go to the dwellings where day after day 
The Scriptures are studied and pious men pray; 
We ask them the question, " If they are here blest?" 
They answer, " We're earnestly seeking a rest" — 

(Fondly hoping, firm believing, 

Proffer'd grace from God receiving, J 

We're seeking an eternal rest, 

In yonder Mngdom of the blest. 

We go to the temples of pray'r and of praise, 
Where prophets are teaching men heavenly ways; 
We ask them the question, '' If they are here blest?" 
They answer, *' We're seeking, thus seekirtg a rest" 



TRUE HAPPINESS. 171 

Joyful singing, solemn praying, 
God's revealed will obeying; 
We seek, we seek eternal rest, 
In yonder kingdom of the blest 

We go to the angels wbicli hover around, 
And ask them, " If rest for the soul can be found?" 
They answer, " It can, on the heav'nly shore, 
Where sorrow, and sighing, and weeping are o'er." 

Rest immortal, never ceasing — 

Rest where joy is still increasing — 

Sacred, high, eternal rest, 

In yonder kingdom of the blest. 

We go to the christian, as sweetly he dies, 
Now passing triumphant from earth to the skies; 
We ask him the question, " If he is yet blest?" 
He answers, "I'm going, fast going to rest." 

Earthly cares behind me leaving — 

Heav'nly light distinct perceiving, 

I soar to an eternal rest. 

In yonder kingdom of the blest. 



TRUE HAPPINESS. 

'Tis not by power which we possess 
That we obtain true happiness; 
For tyrant kings would surely then 
Become most blest and happy men. 

'Tis not by grasping all we can 

Of worldly store, that makes a man ; 



172 TKUE HAPPINESS. 

The rising to immense estate 

Will make us neither good nor great. 

If ways and means like these would do, 
The famous mountains of Peru 
Might, by the riches they contain, 
Relieve ten thousand souls from pain. 

Should fame, as high and bold she stands, 
Proclaim my name to distant lands — 
Should she with trumps immortal blow 
And spread it through all realms below — 

Should she, with triumph in her eyes, 
Proclaim it mighty through the skies? 
Then send it on, with thrilling tone, 
To rolling spheres beyond our own: 

This would not, could not make me blest. 
In special sense, above the rest 
Of human kind, but leave me more 
Unhappy than I was before. 

To tread the paths Messiah trod, 
In holy reverence for my God — 
To credit what this Teacher saith, 
In strong abiding christian faith, 

Will save me from the love of sin — 
Will make and keep me pure within, 
And give me such substantial joy 
As powers of earth can ne'er destroy. 

The native fruit of this will be 
A heaven-descended charity, 
Which nobly sways the human breast 
And makes a creatuife sHveetly blest 



THE ONE I LOVE BEST. 173 



THE ONE I LOYE BEST. 

I love a man of tender heart, 
Who can a generous tear impart ^ 

To one whose soul's oppress' d with grief, 
And knows not where to find relief. 
For in this world where troubles rise, 
And draw the tears from weeping eyes. 
The balm that softens and controls 
Our grief, is found in mingling souls. 

I love a person well refin'd 
In thought and feeling, heart and mind, 
In manners, habits, speech and dress, 
And all things else he may possess. 
Though these improvements, in the main, 
May seem to some no special gain, 
Yet to a more enlighten' d view 
They add a charm to all we do. 

I love an honest, upright soul, 
Who rises o'er all mean control. 
Nor deigns so base, so low to bend. 
As impious conduct to defend. 
Who hates the vices and the deeds 
On which degraded nature feeds. 
But strives by measures pure and chaste 
To form his habits and his taste. 

I-love a person, when there's such, 
Who aids the public interest much, 
By patronizing Church and State, 
And all our projects good and great. 



174 THE CHRISTIAN MAN. 

Who acts the liberal man complete 
When call'd his country's wants to meet, 
And by a fix'd, determin'd stand, 
Sustains the honors of the land. 

There is another person still, 
Who, in his warm and earnest zeal» 
Obeys the mandates of the skies 
And toils for bliss that never dies — 
Whose soul is bless' d with such a meed 
Of heavenly grace, 'tis blest indeed. 
This is the one, I must confess, 
I love far more than all the rest. 



THE CHRISTIAN MAK 

Christian man, I see thee moving 
On the way to Sion's Hill; 

Every day that passes, proving 
Thou art true and faithful still, 
Always striving 

Thy great calling to fulfil. 

Christian man, I see thee giving 
Just support to Sion's cause, 

Constant speaking, acting, living 
In obedience to her laws. 
Onward, christian. 

In thy course, and never pause. 

Christian man, I see thee reading 
In the Book of Life divine, 



THE CHRISTIAN MAN. 175 

And on heavenly manna feeding 
As thou read'st each moving line — 
Sweetly calling 
Every precious promise thine. 

Christian man, I see thee staying 
Where black clouds and tempests lower; 

Often too, I hear thee praying 
For the Saviour's promised power, 
To sustain thee 

In the dark and trying hour. 

Christian man, thou art a stranger 

Suff 'ring in this world below; 
Thus thy Lord laid in a manger, 

Born to sorrow, grief and wo. 
Hear me, christian, 
This shall not be always so. 

Art thou now a frequent weeper — 

Weeping o'er thy guilty fall? 
Thou Shalt soon become a keeper 

In a star-lit, heaven-built hall, 
Where they cannot 
Ever, ever weep at all. 

Christian man, thou art a wrestler, 
Wrestling hard with flesh and blood; 

But thou Shalt become a nestler 
On the bosom of thy God, 
When he calls thee 

Up to his divine abode. 

Christian man, thou wast a sinner 
Great indeed, in heaven's sight. 



176 THE CHEISTIAN MAN. 

But tliou slialt become a winner 
Of a crown supremely bright, 
When lie bids thee 
Enter to the world of light. 

Friend thou art, and a relation 
Of the great ones in the skies, 

And when done with this probation 
Then thou shalt to glory rise ; 
And, triumphant, 

Live where pleasure never dies. 

Thou art known, well known in heaven, 
There thou very soon shall be, 

When the grace of God, like leaven. 
Does its perfect work in thee — 
Heir forever 

Of a blest eternity. 

Christian man, be always pray'rful; 

Look thee, watch thee, night and day, 
And in every thing be careful 

That thou keep the " Narrow Way." 
Then thou wilt not — 
Then thou canst not go astray. 

Thou art fondly lov'd in Sion, 
With a blessed portion there — 

Thou shouldst bold be as a lion, 
Never once indulging fear. 
Thou, O pilgrim. 

Art to God and angels dear. 

Christian man, be always thankful— 
Every wicked thing abhor; 



THE BIBLE. ITi 

Let thy mind be pure and tranquil — 
Heed not either storm or war. 
Now and ever 
Thou art well provided for. 

Christian man, whate'er may grieve thee, 

He will send an angel host, 
And surprisingly relieve thee 

At the time thou need'st it most. 
Trust in Jesus 
Evermore, as now thou dost. 



THE BIBLE. 

I. 
There is a book of noble birth, 
To wand'ring mortals given, 
It did not spring from men or earth. 
But came direct from heaven, 
O blessed book! 
God ne'er forsook 
The men that wrote thy pages. 
But by his power, 
From hour to hour, 
Sustain'd them in all ages. 

II. 

If yonder sun were blotted out. 
How dismal things wo aid look; 

And yet 'tis true, beyond a doubt. 
That if this blessed book 

H* 



178 THE BIBLE, 

Were, by some hnud, 

At God's command, 
Eemov'd from eartlily places, 

A darker night 

Eclipsing light, 
Would veil all human faces. 

HI. 

Its truth supports an empire here— 

A kingdom ne'er to cease. 
And fills the kingdom far and near 
With promis'd christian peace. 

And just so long. 

In prose or song. 
As it relates its story, 

This kingdom great 

Will rise in state. 
To weahh and power and glor3\ 

IT. 

This book is like the Morning Star 
Which introduces day; 

It throws its radiant light afar 
And scatters night away. 
And more and more 
From shore to shore 

'Twill beam on every nation. 
Till East and West, 
All men are blest 

With its illumination. 

Y. 

Lo! mighty hosts have often tried 

In rage and mad distrust, 
To thrust this holy book aside 



THE BIBLE. 179 

And tread it down to dust. 

But still it lives 

And ever gives 
Full proof of inspiration; 

Its matchless light 

Is shining bright 
To guide us to salvation. 

VI. 

AVhen all now living on the earth, 

And millions more are dead, 
This book of blessed heavenly birth 
Will still be joyful read. 
By day and night 
"With sweet delight, 
Pliilosophers and sages 
Will read and pray 
And learn the way 
Of wisdom from its pages. 

VII. 

Benignly given from the skies, 

To tell through earth its story, 
It ne'er will cease to make men wise, 
Till earth is fill'd with glory. 

Triumphant then 

'Twill rise again 
To an immortal station. 

And bright and fair 

Forever there, 
Illume a new creation. 

VIII. 

This book lives on through every age, 
XJnchans'd by changing time; 



180 THE BIBLE. 

' It loses not a single page — 

It loses not a line. 
Its light and truth 
Remain the same 
(By heaven's supreme protection,) 
As when at first 
To man they came 
For his diyine direction. 

IX. 

Behold! the time will surely comf 

When stars must perish all, 
And yon refulgent, burning sun, 
To utter ruin fall. 

But still this hook 

To whch we look 
To guide us through probation, 

Will live and be 

Eternally 
A book of revelation. 

X. 

If we believe and right receive 
These truths divinely given, 
We'll quickly find with joy of mind 
The way that leads to heaven! 

Then sweet we'll feed 

On what we read, 
Delighted with the story, 

And pass along 

With many a song 
To yonder world of glory. 



MY MOTHEK. 181 



MY MOTHER. 

O motlier, dear mother! I think now with tears, 

Fast flowing from both of my eyes, 
How faithful you labor' d for many long years 

To make me both holy and wise. 
From first recollections I have of your care. 

In days of my childhood and youth, 
You taught me to seek the Redeemer in pray'r 

And rev'rence the Scriptures of Truth. 

Blest mother! the precepts you taught me so long, 

Ev'n on till your last dying breath, 
Have made an impression so deep and so strong, 

I'll carry them with me to death. 
They comfort and guide me by night and by day. 

At home, on the land, on the sea; 
While others are fearfully going astray, 

I'm thinking of these and of thee. 

O mother, dear mother! I strive to fulfil 

All that you desir'd me to be, 
For though now in heaven, your spirit is still 

Oft looking intensely on me. 
I'm serving the Master, but yet with what speed 

I cannot unerringly tell; 
But this I'm assur'd, if thy precepts I heed, 

All, all in the end will be well. 

O mother, dear mother! I lately have been 

Where long you resided on earth; 
The house is the same, both without and within, 

It was at the time of my birth. 



182 MY MOTHER. 

I look'cl tlirough the mansion, and thought I must see 

Your person around the old dome, 
But vain was the thought and the search both to me — 

You've gone to the heavenly home. 

mother, dear mother! your Bible is there, 
Still laying upon the old stand. 

Its pages are bearing almost everywhere 
The marks of your pencil in hand. 

1 open and read in the old fam'ly books — 
I go where you taught me to pray — 

I think of your mien, and your voice, and your looks, 
Though now you are far, far away. 

The chair is still there; yes, the old rocking chair, 

You sat in as mother and wife, 
'Tis sacred to death-thoughts as well as to pray'r, 

For in it you ended your life. 
The trees that you watered are yet to be seen 

All growing up noble and brave — 
The beds that you planted are fragrant and green, 

But you are asleep in the grave. 

mother, dear mother! I recently knelt 
On the spot where your ashes repose; 

1 pray'd, but no mortal can tell how I felt 
When, after that pray'r, I arose. 

This world seem'd all nothing, just nothing to me, 

I long'd and I sigh'd to be gone, 
To see what the spirits in glory do see. 

And join in their heavenly song. 

O mother, dear mother! just lately I dream'd 
You stood by the side of my bed, 



THE ARM UNSEEN. 18? 

The light from your countenance beautiful beam'd 

And glory was crowning your head; 
A voice, soft and clear, like a voice from the sky, 

Said thrice, in a whispering breath, 
Be faithful and true, your reward is on high — 

Be faithful, my child, until death. 



THE ARM UNSEEK 

• When in my early infant days 

I laid upon my mother's breast. 
And heard her sing Jehovah's praise 

And read about the heavenly rest. 
An arm unseen was round me laid 

To keep me safe from every snare; 
No fatal ills could then invade 

My blest abode, for God was there. 

When I was in my childhood state. 

As thoughtless as a child could be 
About my life — my destin'd fate 

For time or for eternity; 
That great and good and pow'rful Hand 

Still kept me back from many a wo, 
It held me up, it made me stand. 

It did not, would not let me go. 

AVhen I was in my youthful prime, 
A playmate meet for sportive boys, 

And hated all disgraceful crime, 
But fondly lov'd all earthly joys; 



184 THE AKM UNSEEN. 

My passions ardent, restless, wild, 
Would then have led me far astray, 

Had God forsook his erring child 
And left me to my chosen way. 

When I was in my manhood years, 

ISTow toiling hard to gather store; 
When cares, alternate cares and fears 

Were pressing on me sad and sore — 
My mind distracted hour by hour. 

Would oft have writh'd in keenest pain, 
Had God withdrawn protecting power 

And let this worldly spirit reign. 

When marching to the battle ground 

Connected with the army corps, - 
I heard the rattling cannon sound 

And loud and mighty thunders roar; 
Then that same strong, protecting arm. 

Which long had been my stay and shield, 
Defended me from threatening harm 

And brought me safely from the field. 

Upon the ocean wild and mad. 

Once in the dreadful storm I rode, 
Each countenance was pale and sad 

And all were calling loud on God; 
" thou, that ruPst the winds and waves, 

Convey us safe to yonder shore, 
Kor let us sink in watery graves. 

To rise and dwell on earth no more.'' 

He heard us in that painful hour — 
He spake and bade the winds be still— 

*The author was Chaplain for a time in the U, S. army. 



ANCHOR HOLD. 185 

Rebuk'd tlie waves, and by liis power 

Made all submissiye to his will. 
That power! I bless and praise it yet — 

That power so faithful just and true! 
O may we mortals ne'er forget 

The arm unseen thai hears us through. 



ANCHOR HOLD. 

When storms of war are falling 

("Tremendous on the land,) 
So constant and appalling, 

No forces can withstand — 
When hills and mountains shaking, 

Loud echo with the noise. 
And earth around us quaking, 

Gives death-strokes to our joys; 
We trust ill Ood., loth firm and boUJ,, 
That he will be our Anchor Hold. 

When fierce disease is spreading 

In terror all abroad. 
And great and small are dreading 

This awful scourge of God — 
AVhen thousands dead and dying 

Are sinking to the grave. 
And thousands more are flying 

The precious life to save; 
We trust in God, both strong and hold., 
That he will be our Anchor ITold. 

When vice is fast increasing, 
Both in the Church and State, 



186 ANCHOR HOLD. 

And men proceed unceasing 

To madly dissipate — 
-^. When crime is fearful spreading 

Through country, city, street, 
And holy men are dreading 

The consequence to meet; 
We trust in God^ both firm and bold, 
That he will be oiir Anchor Hold. 

When low'ring clouds hang o'er us, 

And times are dark and drear, 
. When dangers lie before us. 

Awaking all our fear — 
When dread events are pending, 

And men have ceased from mirth- 
When God, in wrath, is sending 

Destruction on the earth; 
We trust in Him, both firm and bold. 
That he icill be our Anchor hold. 

When friends we loved forsake us, 

And prove themselves untrue — 
When changes which unmake us. 

Are seen and suffer'd too — 
When kindred all around us 

Lay on a dying bed. 
And sink (the sight confounds us,^ 

To dwell among the dead; 
We trust in Ood, both firm and bold. 
That he will be our Anchor hold. 

When on the angry ocean 
Our bark is wildly toss'd, 

'Mid scenes in dire commotion, 
All telling we'll be lost — 



UP IN heav'n. 187 

When storms are still prevailing, 

And eSoYis fore and aft, 
Are wholly unavailing 

To save the sinking craft; 
We trust in God, bothJir7n and bold. 
That he icill be our Anchor Hold. 

So when the body, dying, 

Is turning back to clay, 
And soul, set free, is flying 

To distant worlds away — 
When flesh and heart both fail us, 

We need not shed a tear. 
When pangs of death assail us, 

We've nothing then to fear; 
We trust in God, both firm and bold. 
That he will be our Anchor Hold. 

When earth shall cease its turning, 

And stars no more give light — 
When all creation's burning, 

A dread and awful sight- 
When funeral bells, loud tolling, 

Bid elements expire, 
The heavens, together rolling, 

Dissolve in quenchless fire; 
We trust in God, both firm arid bold, 
That he will be our Anchor Hold. 



UP IN HEAY'N. 

I have a treasure great indeed 
Reserv'd for me in time of need — 
Which does all other things exceed; 
A treasiu'e up in Heav'n. 



188 VF IN HEAV'N. 

I have a house far out of sight, 
A blessed mansion pure and bright 
Where I shall dwell in ceaseless light, 

Exalted up in Heav'n. 
I have a hope both firm and strong, 
It is so now, has been so long, 
That I shall join the happy throng 

Who shout and sing in Heav'n. . 
I have a faith my Maker gave. 
It vaunts not, yet 'tis strong to save, 
And will, methinks, ev'n death out-brave, 

And land me safe in Heav'n. 
I am a king, but not of earth, 
I boast not of my human birth, 
This is a thing of little worth. 

My kingdom's up in Heav'n. 
I have a crown that's kept for me 
By him who died on calvary; 
That crown I soon in joy shall see 

And wear it up in Heav'n. 
I have a Great Almighty Friend, 
Who does my life, my all defend. 
And still will guide me to the end, 

Then fix me up in Heav'n. 
There, there my conflicts will be o'er, 
There I shall need my faith no more. 
But on that bright, immortal shore. 

Obtain my long'd for Heav'n. 
There with the God-man glorified, 
I'll in that glory sweet abide, 
And wish for nothing more beside, 

To constitute my Heav'n. 



PART VIII. 



"Watchman, what of the night?" Ans. "The morn- 
ing Cometh." The pastor and parish scenes— death, judg- 
ment and heaven. 

1. Alone in the Night. 

3. The Day-Spring and Commission. 

3. The Great Awakening. 

4. Old and New Creations. 

5. Joyful Singing. 

6. The Pastor on Leaving his Charge. 

7. The Pastor's Farewell to his Study-Room. 

8. The Stranger's Visit. 

9. The Sower and the Seed. . 

10. The Old Sanctuary. 

11. The Mouldering Bone. 

12. The Cemetery. 

13. Scenes of Sinai and the Last Day. 

14. The Christian's Farewell. 



ALONE IN THE NIGHT. 

I. 

The winds arc sighing round nie 
As I sit on this heiglit, ' 

And shining* ones have found me 
Here in the dead of night. 

As all around is dark and drear, 

You'll wonder what I'm doing here. 

II. 
I'm gazing, fondly gazing 

Upon the stars of light; 
The view is grand, amazing, 

And fills me with delight. 
Here I could sit till break of day, 
And think of worlds, far, far away. 

III. 
These briskly winds regaling 

My spirits light and brave, 
Will soon take up their wailing 

Around my lonely grave. 
And there they'll frequent rage and roar 
Till death's long reigning night is o'er. 

IV. 

But while my dust lies lowly, 
Un'ieen by mortal eye, 



f Angels. 



192 ALONE IN THE NIGHT. 

My spirit blest and lioly, 

Will shine above the sky. 
There, far removed from sin and pain, 
I'll never taste of death again. 

V. 

I'm thinking, joyful thinking, 

Of paradise on high — 
I'm drinking, sweetly drinking. 

In pleasure from the sky. 
And while I speak with God in pray'r, 
I seem almost translated there. 

VI. 

I'm feeling, deeply feeling. 
The debt of love we owe 

To mercy for revealing 
To mortals here below, 

A way of life so bright and clear, 

It brings eternal glories near. 

VII. 

I'm closely here conversing 
With angels from above, 

And glad to them rehearsing 
Redeeming grace and love. 
^ The story is forever new 

To ransom'd men, and angels too. 

VIII. 

I'm sighing, sadly sighing, 
O'ernations sunk in sin — 

I'm crying, ceaseless crying — 
Dear Saviour ! haste, begin 

That great restoring day of grace 

Long promised to our fiallen race. 



ALONE IN THE NIGHT. 193 

IX. 

I'm weeping, bitter "vreeping, 

For men as hard as steel; 
They're all around me sleeping, 

And neither think nor feel. 
Oh! heavens! I agonizing cry, 
Come save these sleepers, lest they die. 

X. 

I see the light is breaking 

Far over land and sea, 
I see ten thousands waking 

To christian liberty. 
0! blessed day of gospel light. 
Spread on till darkness takes its flight. 

XI. 

I'm singing, joyful singing 

To great Immanuel's praise; 
The space around me ringing, 

Sends back the tuneful lays. 
Such praise is comely; aye, 'tis right, 
And well becomes us day and night. 

XII. 

The stars still throw their lustre 

Around the spreading sky, 
And now and then a cluster 

Appears to cheer my eye. 
But that's the star alone for me 
Which rose at Christ's nativity. 

XIII. 

O star resplendent shining ! 
I saw thee in my youth, 



194 THE DAY SPRING AND COMMISSION. 

In sweetest forms combining 

The beautiful with, truth. 
As thou didst bless my early days, 
Still guide me, beauteous star, always. 

XIV. 

I would be ever doing 
"What heaven appoints me to — 

I would be still iDursuing 
My christian journey through. 

Then suff'ring past and labors o'er, 

I'll reach at last the heavenly shore. 

XV. 

But, tell us, watchman, plainly. 
Will Shiloh come and reign — 

Is darkness striving vainly 
Its empire to maintain? 

" Dispel thy doubts, dismiss thy fear, 

The world's redemption draweth near." 



THE DAY SPRING AND COMMISSION. 

! see how that beautiful light 

Is streaming all over the sky; 
Lo, darkness is taking its flight — 

The Christian Millenium' s nigh. 
Hear, hear how the gospel's glad sound 

Is spreading o'er island and sea, 
The shores of each ocean resound 

With shouts of the sav'd and the free. 



THE DAT SPRING AND COMMISSION. 195 

Ye heralds, courageous and bold, 

CSustain'd by the promise of God,) 
Go forth like Apostles of old. 

And publish salvation abroad. 
An urgent commission, indeed, 

You hold in your minist'ring hands; 
Move on with your message in speed, 

And bear it in joy to all lands. 

Go, go where the Sultan now rules — 

Where crescents are blalzing so bright, 
And spread through their courts and their school, 

The rays of the heavenly light. 
There, there where the Koran is read, 

("They know not how great is their loss, ) 
Go ye and proclaim to the dead 

Salvation, by Christ and the Cross. 

Where Czars hold their despotic sway, 

And millions now bow to their nod, 
O haste you, blest heralds, to-day. 

And set up the kingdom of God. 
There, there where the winter snows fall. 

And bold winds are blowing so bleak, 
Go, publish redemption to all — 

Alike to the Jew and the Greek. 

Haste yonder 'neath Italy's sky. 

Where peasants are feeling their wrongs; 
There lift np your voices on high. 

And preach to the listening throngs. 
Yes, there where the lands are so fair, 

And birds sweetly warble their lays, 
Make valleys and mountains and air 

Kesound with Immanuers praise. 



196 THE DAY SPPtlMG AND COMMISSION. 

Rush on to the lands of the deep, 

Not bearing the sword nor the spear, 
But bearing to mortals that weep 

The message which dries up the tear. 
And wide o'er the isles left so long 

In darkness, and sadness, and gloom, 
O, wake up the Cherubim's song, 

And spread forth the light as the noon. 

Far, far to the North and the South, 

To East and to West make your way; 
The tidings you joyfully bear 

Admit not a moment's delay. 
Go forth upon Africa's sands — 

Go forth upon Mexico's sod. 
And slack not the work of your hands 

Till all are converted to God. 

You've often-times feelingly heard 

From heathen the loud sounding cry, 
" Oh, send us the life-giving word — 

Come help us, or soon we will die!" 
The cause is stupendous and great, 

Stay, stay not to calculate cost; 
Go swiftly, or else it's too late. 

And millions are hopelessly lost. 

See, see how the nations all shake! 

What promising tokens' appear; 
The day is beginning to break — 

The world's restoration is near. 
Fly, fly to the rescue, brave men, 

Lay hold upon buckler and shield. 
The vict'ry you'll surely obtain, 

Ere call'd from the great battle-field. 



THE GREAT AWAKENING OF 1858-59. 197 

Your brethren are boldly engag'd, 

With fervor and sweetest accord — 
The youthful as well as the aged 

Are earnestly serving the Lord. 
On, on with the standard you bear, 

And shrink not from pain nor from toil, 
Till amply supported by pray'r. 

You've rear'd it on every soil. 



THE GREAT AWAKENING OF 1858-59, 

All hail to the Pentecost days 

Returning to. mortals again! 
Ten thousands are joining in praise, 

And angels are shouting, Amen ! 
The heralds are moving apace, 

And speaking by special command, 
While mighty revivals of grace 

Are spreading all over the land. 

Pause, pause and consider awhile. 

What answers are given to pray'r! 
O, see on yon Emerald Isle, 

What works of salvation are there ! 
That country which always has been 

Renown'd for its beauty and light. 
Now ransom'd from death and from sin, 

Is shining transcendingly bright. 

Around her sweet fountains and lakes, 
Enchanting to every eye, 



198 THE GREAT AWAKENING OF 1858-59. 

The chorus triumphantly breaks, 
Arising from earth to the sky. 

Hark! hark how the ransom' d ones sing, 
And pour their rejoicings abroad! 

Hill, valleys and mountain-steeps ring 
With anthems they're raising to God. 

O flow. on thou light of the Lord! 

Flow farther, flow faster, flow still. 
Till all on the Emerald Isle 

Shall bow to Immanuel's will. 
Till over each field and each strand, 

From centre points round to the sea. 
Her millions of people shall stand 

And shout to the world, they are free. 

Now turn to the mountains of Wales, 

And wonder and praise and adore; 
Her highlands, her fields and her vales. 

Are beauteous as never before. 
Sweet music is breakidg out there — 

Sweet brightness is spreading around; 
The people assemble for pray'r. 

And joy and devotion abound. 

The spirit in glory descends — 

Religion is bearing the sway — 
The foes of the Lord and his friends 

Awake to a wonderful day. 
Twelve myriads and more they record 

(A holy and consecrate band, ) 
Have given themselves to the Lord, 

And glory is filling their land. 

O, see how to Exter Hall 
The people are wending their way! 



THE GREAT AWAKENING OF 1858-59. 199 

In London, the great and the small 

Are coming together to pray. 
Her heralds are speaking with lips 

All burning with heavenly fire; 
Her princes are rushing to hear, 

And queens in their royal attire. 

See! yonder at old Aberdeen, 

Where holy men long ago trod, 
What crowded assemblies are seen 

Awaiting the coming of God. 
And all over Edinburgh now 

The pious are joining in pray'r; 
O, see how they weepingly bow, 

And seek an in-gathering there. 

Turn, turn to blest Sweden your eyes, 

Whose waters are shining so bright, 
And see in the midst of her skies 

A new and a wonderful light. 
'Tis Bethlehem's beautiful star 

(Unspeakably brightest and best, J) 
That's spreading its light there afar. 

And makes the inhabitants blest. 

O, see how the deep darkness flies. 

And hear where the Baltic loud roars, 
What songs of salvation arise 

And echo all over these shores! 
Lo, millions have broken the bands 

Which bound them to sin's tyrant sway. 
And Sweden, blest Sweden, there stands 

A nation redeem' d in a dry. 

O, work of the Lord, hasten on, 
Increasing in power and in speed 



200 _ THE OLD AND NEW CREATIONS. 

Along the bright banks of the Don — 
Along the sweet braes of the Tweed. 

Around the old Caspian Sea — 
On shores of the Honduras bay; 

Wherever vain mortals may be, 
There spread out a heavenly day. 

Where Danube is rolling its tide — 

Where Volga is dashing along — 
Where Biscay is spreading so wide, 

And Alpines are standing so strong; 
There, there carry peace to lost men, 

And banish their darkness and wo. 
Till Shiloh returns here again 

To reign in his kingdom below. 

Where Moscow was burnt to the ground — 
Where Warsaw so terribly fell, 

Spread blessings immortal around, 
And save men from death and from hell. 

Haste, haste to the rescue of souls — 
Bring mortal long wand' ring to rest — 

Spread light to the far distant poles- 
Make kingdoms and nations all blest. 



THE OLD AND NEW CREATIONS. 

Soon shall an angel stand 

(The thing will surely be,) 
With one foot on the land, 
The other on the sea, 
And loud proclaim from shore to shore, 
That time which was, shall be no more. 



THE OLD A2sD NEW CREATIONS. 201 

A miglity trumpet blast, 

At tliat tremendous hour 
Will burst, from first to last, 
With such amazing power. 
That all the dead shall hear the sound, 
And rise immortal from the ground. 

Then through the stormy skies. 
The Lord of hosts will come 
In grandeur and surprise, 
To fix the general doom. 
And so resolve the fates of men, 
They ne'er can be reversed again. 

The fiaming heav'ns shall burn 

In livid fire that day; 
The mountains, in their turn, 
Melt down and pass away. 
The tossing sea will loudly roar, 
Then perish too, and be no more. 

But there's a promise given 

In an immortal book. 
Of a new earth and heaven, 
For which the saints may look. 
What there is said will sure be done, 
The word is from the Holy One. 

The sun which then shall rise, 

Will never, never set. 
But in th' eternal skies 
Grow brighter, brighter yet, 
And blaze and burn with quenchless light, 
For in that world "there is no night." 



JOYFUL SINGIET. 

There saints forever live, 

Injoyful, joyful tliiv^gs, 
There they forever give 
To God, immortal songs. 
Delighted there they range and roam, 
Firm fixed in an eternal home. 



JOYFUL SINGING. 

When the Lord made this creation, 

When he rais'd the -wondrous frame, 
Angels in their lofty station 

Shouted loudly to his name. 
Then they all in rapture singing, 

f While they wonder'd at the sight,) 
Set the vast expanse to ringing 
With their songs of sweet delight. 

The Morning Stars together sung — 

Together chanted tuneful lays, 
Till all the heav'ns stupendous rung 
With their seraphic song of praise. 

Jewish legions safely landing 

On the banks of Egypt's sea. 
There in joy and wonder standing, 

At the thought they now were free, 
Join'd, all join'd in sweetly praising 

Him who made their cause his care — 
Hallelujahs higher raising 

Till their shoutings flll'd the air. 

The sea sent hack the thrilling sound — 
Ten thousand thousands join'd the lay, 



JOYFUL SINGING. 203 

And hills and vales did loud resound 
With joyful singing on that day. 

When the Lord, the sky forsaking, 
Came in mercy down to earth — 
When the happy morning breaking, 

Told the story of his birth; 
Holy angels brightly shining. 
Hasted there on rapid wing. 
And, in mighty choirs combining. 
Made the vast expansion ring: 

Yes, ring with such enchanting strains 

As mortals never heard before. 
Loud breaking on Judea's plains — 
Far sounding o'er old Jordan's shore. 

When through earth they've told the story, 

And the Gospel triumphs won — 
When millennial days of glory 

In their brightness are begun, 
Then, in sweeter choirs than ever. 
All the earth will sing of peace, 
In such music strains as never 
Through a thousand years can cease. 
Lo! from the bosom of the deep, 

And from all kingdoms, far and wide, 
The swelling strains will rise and sweep. 
Loud sounding as the ocean's tide. 

When the last great day is breaking — 

When old time is at its close — 
When the powers of nature shaking, 

Sink to chaos, whence they rose — 
When the dead, wak'd from their slumbers, 

Gather to the Judgment seat, 



2di THE PASTOR Ol^ LEAVING HIS CHARGE. 

Then the saints, in countless numbers, 
Will each other joyful meet; 
All exulting, all adoring, 

Loud as thunders in the air, 
(Or, as mighty waters roaring J 
They will sing the triumph there. 

Welcom'd to a new creation, 

Form'd for them and angels too, 
There receiving full salvation. 

They'll awake the strain anew. 
Hear them blessing, shouting, praising, 

As they fill their places round; 
Higher yet their voices raising, 
Louder yet they swell the sound. 
Weeping, fainting, tiring never, 
Now they joyful, joyful sing. 
Praising sweetly and forever, 
Christ their Prophet, Priest, and King. 



THE PASTOR ON LEAYING HIS CHARGE. 

Dear Sanctuary ! Fare thee well — 

Adieu blest house of God ! 
Within, without, around thy courts 

I've long and joyful trod. 
But now my labors here are o'er, 

The seasons all are past, 
I'll see thy stately walls no more 

While time and nature last. 
I love thee; yes, I love thee well — 
But, House of God, now fare thee well. 



THE PASTOR ON LEAVING HIS CHARGE. ^0^ 

Thou sweetly singing Clioir, Farewell ! 

No more I'll hear you raise 
Your voices here on earth, to swell 

The Great Jehovah's praise. 
Our place of meeting next will be, 

We trust, in that abode, 
Where on to all eternity 

We'll sing in praise of God. 
I love you; yes, I love you well, 
But sacred choir, now, Fare thee well. 

Farewell, dear people of my charge — 

A heart-felt, last adieu ! 
How oft upon appointed days 

I've met and pray'd with you. 
The sacred tie that bound us fast 

Is rent now, rent in twain — 
The parting day has come at last. 

And we'll ne'er meet again. 
I'm going hence, far hence to dwell. 
Dear christian friends, a long Farewell. 

O, why have I thus thoughtless said, 

" We ne'er shall meet again." 
Must we descending to the dead, 

Forever there remain ? 
No, no, there is a world above. 

Where some have gone before, 
Where all the saints, in perfect love. 

Will meet to part no more. 
Yes, yes, dear brethren, there and then. 
We'll joyful, joyful meet again. 



</ 



206 PASTOR'S FAEEWELL TO HIS STUDY ROOM. 



PASTOR'S FAREWELL TO HIS STUDY 
ROOM. 

There is a place most dear to me, 

I. prize it more and more; 
'Tis full of old divinity 

And books of useful lore. 

These books I've had for many years, 

I know them by the touch; 
I've oft bedew'd them with my tears, 

I value them so much. 

Perhaps you'll feel dispos'd to laugh 

At what I'm going to say, 
But here I spend at least one-half 

Of each alternate da3^ 

And here I often pass the night, 

Till it is late indeed; 
This is my chosen time to write, 

As well as muse and read. 

Lo! here I've sat while snows and rains 

Have long around me fell, 
And tried with greatest care and pains 

To meet engagements well. 

And here I've thought with aching head— 

With sleepless, weeping eye, 
Of many number' d with the dead, 

And others soon to die. 



pastor's farewell to his study room. 207 

Hark! hark again, that funeral bell! 

How oft it solemn tolls 
And speaks, with every sounding knell, 

The rapid flight of souls.] 

I've often had enjoyments here 

I never can forget, 
Things to my soul so sweet and dear, 

I think upon them yet. 

And here, too, many a tear I've shed 

O'er passions wrongly bent, 
Affection cold, and feeling dead, 

And precious time misspent. 

What thoughts have here pass' d through my mind — 

What feelings mov'd my heart, 
I could not tell, if so inclin'd. 

The half or hundredth part. 

Lo, here I've toil'd while many 3^ears , 

Have come and pass'd away. 
Till now advancing age appears. 

And all my hairs are gray. 

My strength is wasting, wasting fast, 

My work is almost done, 
The sinking sands within my glass 

Will soon be fully run. 

Ere long I'll end my mortal race 

And sleep within the tomb; 
Then farewell, blessed, lovely place! 

Farewell, my study room. 



208 THE stranger's visit. 



THE STRANGER'S YISIT. 

A stranger ■witli Ms little band 
Once cross' d the water o'er, 

And hasten' d to a peering land 
Where they'd not been before. 

They went there at the evening fall, 
When toil had ceas'd again, 

To give the gracious Gospel call 
To wretched, dying men. 

Whence came this wondrous visitor? 

Was it from Palestine, 
Whose distant hills were still in view, 

*' While Jordan roll'd between?" 

Did he come out from Egypt's land. 

With pity in his breast — 
With life and light at his command. 

To make these people blest? 

He came from Heaven's supreme abode, 
CNot knowing noise or strife,) 

A holy legate sent from God 
To give the dying life. 

He was the Great Immanuel, 

Of blessed, holy birth. 
Who for a time came down to dwell 

With men upon the earth. 

He came in agony to toss, 
In bloody s^eat to roll, 



THE stranger's VISIT. W& 

To bleed and die upon a cross 
To save the human soul. 

He came to give believers hope — 

To soothe their anxious grief, 
And in the midst of pain and wo 

To furnish sweet relief 

He came to open wide the way 

That leads to rest on high, 
And give us triumph in that day 

When we are call'd to die. 

And now upon this darken' d shore 

The mighty Saviour stands, 
With tidings glad upon his lips, 

And pardon in his hands. 

But yet they had no feeling heart, 

For him no fond desire; 
They bade him from their shores depart — 

From off their soil retire. 

Pie went — the God-man quickly wont 

Forth from their dismal station, 
No more to bid these men repent, 

Nor offer them salvation. 

He left them in one solemn hour, 

(You must not ask me why,) 
But left them to the Tempter's power 

To wander on and die. 



210 THE SOWER AND THE SEED. 



THE SOWER AND THE SEED. 

Wlien the early morning breaketh 
And the light begins to spread, 

Then the faithful sower waketh 
From the slumbers of his bed. 

To his field he promptly goeth, 
Full of faith and love divine, 

Where the seed of truth he soweth, 
For the coming harvest time. 

While the noon-day sun is shining, 
On he goes with strength and speed, 

Toiling still, without repining, 
While he sows the precious seed. 

When the evening dews distilling 
On the dry and thirsty ground, 

He is yet his task fulfilling, 
Scatt'ring holy seed around. 

When the Summer heat is burning, 
Still to it he gives no heed; 

Into lane and alley turning, 
There he sows the precious seed. 

When the winter snow is falling 
On the mountain, on the plain; 

Hark ! to God for help he's calling, 
While he sows the precious grain. 

Lo, while other men are sleeping. 
From all care and trouble freed, 



THE OLD SANCTUARY, 311 

He toils on, oft sadly weeping 
As he sows the precious seed. 

Thus with liberal hand he soweth 

Seed, which may for ages lie 
In the ground, but well he knoweth 

This blessed seed can never die. 

While his body resteth sweetly 

In its slumb'ring bed below, 
This blest seed will spring and meetly 

To a glorious harvest grow. 

While on high his spirit's singing 
Songs of joy and hymns of praise, 

Christ is faithful, faithful bringing 
To the church her harvest days. 

There he'll see; yes, see it plainly, 

While he thinks of all his toil, 
Not one seed was given vainly 

To the rugged, earthly soil. 



THE OLD SANCTUARY. 

Upon yon sacred ground. 
An aged building stands. 

With shade trees growing fair around- 
Put there by careful hands. 

The walls are much decay 'd. 
The galleries are no more. 

The seats are broken down and laid 
In ruins on the floor. 



212 THE OLD SANCTUAEY. 

Its Steeple rude is there, 

With rusted vane and rod, 
Still rising lonely in the air, 

And pointing up to God. 
Its sides admit the rain. 

Its fences lowly bow, 
It is indeed an ancient fane, 

And all forsaken now. 

Beneath these wide spread trees 

The ground has long in trust, 
What God with special favor sees. 

The relics of the just; 
No grave-stones large display 

The places where they sleep, 
But there the angels night and day. 

Their faithful watches keep. 

My kindred lay there, too. 

In silent graves around, 
And what'er this may be to you, 

To me 'tis sacred ground; 
Methinks I see them there 

On holy days of rest. 
All gath'red to this house of prayer. 

In comely costume dress'd. 

Methinks I see them pray — 

Methinks I hear them sing, 
Till with six hundred voices thej'- 

Make all the building ring. 
Methinks I see again 

The man of God arise, 
And loud proclaim to dying men 

Salvation from the skies. 



THE MOULDERING BONE. 213 

Methinks I see some weep, 

But many more rejoice, 
Wliile others, greatly harden' d, sleep, 

Under the preacher's voice. 
And thus I see them come 

To hear, and praise, and pray, 
Till each on earth his race has run — 

Till each has pass'd away. 

And now their work is done 

For all eternity; 
Some have a crown of glory won, 

Some, thoughtless, lost their day. 
The house they freely built. 

Though old and waste, still stands. 
But they, in pardon or in guilt. 

Have pass'd to unknown lands. 



THE MOULDERING BONE. 

As once I walked the strand alone, 
I chanc'd to find a mould'ring bone. 
I took it up, survey' d it well. 
What bone it was I could not tell; 
But soon the thought rose in my mind, 
This bone is one of human kind, 
Which onee, no doubt with grief profound, 
Was laid to moulder in the ground. 
But though, in usual" way intomb'd, 
Yet somehow since it's been exhum'd, 
And left, without protecting care, 
To moulder in the open air. 



214 THE MOULDEKING BONE. 

As I was gazing on the bone, 
Methought I heard a solemn moan, 
A low-like voice, which softly said, 
" This hone, O man, is firmly wed 
To blest Immanuel in the skies. 
And hence will soon triumphant rise 
To dwell with him upon his throne, 
A beauteous, bright, immortal bone." 

This said, I gently with my hand 
Laid down the bone upon the strand, 
Then turn'd me round to leave it there 
Still mouldering in the open air. 
But as I slowly pass'd away 
I heard a secret whisper say: 
That bone which thus so lonely lies 
Expos' d to waste from earth and skies, 
Belong'd to one whose faith, whose creed. 
Made him a nohle man indeed. 
He serv'd the church, as all can tell; 
He serv'd the State, too, long and well. 
He went and came at every call. 
To honor God and man and all. 
He founded institutions great^ 
(Some early in his life — some late,) 
To stand in time of need, and be 
The strength of law and liberty. 
He planted temples with his hand, 
To be the bulwarks of the land; 
To give us light, to guide our way 
When things of court and state decay. 
He set on foot such projects new 
That men admir'd and prais'd them too, 
Each day devising some great plan 



THE MOULDERING BONE. 215 

To benefit the race of man. 
His countrymen have writ his name 
Upon their books and rolls of fame, 
And long as suns shall rise and set, 
This man will be remembered yet. 

Although no part of prince or king, 
This bone is still a priceless thing; 
Its worth no mortal man can tell, 
'Tis partner with Immanuel. 
'Twill therefore live another day 
When changing time has pass'd away. 
When Angel trumpets loudly sound, 
'Twill rise immortal from the ground — 
When human thrones are prostrate hurl'd, 
'Twill triumph o'er a ruin'd world — 
When mightiest empires crushing f^ll, 
'Twill feel no hurt from them at all — 
When hills and vales dissolve in fire, 
(Caught by the pow'r of God up high'r,) 
'Twill live on some immortal shore 
To be a mould'ring bone no more. 

Hence, while it lays so lowly here. 
It is to God and Angels dear. 
They keep a careful watch around 
The place it rests upon the ground. 
And as they claim it for their own. 
They'll sufier naught to harm the bone. 

Proceed then, stranger, on your way, 

And leave that bone unburied lay; 

It needs no pity, man, from thee, 

It needs no human sympathy. 

C You've stoop' d again with awe profound. 



216 THE CEMETEKY. 

To raise it from the mother ground, 
And bear it off from hence apace 
To lay it in some better place. ) 
Discharge it, stranger, from yom* hand, 
Lo, 'tis yom* Maker gives command; 
Without a sigh, without a frown, 
Go lay it quickly, gently down, 
Just where you found it let it be, 
'Tis born to highest destiny. 



THE CEMETERY. 

I'm here alone, and all is drear, 

Dark clouds above me roll, 
And now and then a secret fear 

Comes stealing o'er my soul. 

I do not fear at all to die — 

I do not fear the grave; 
I know there is a rest on high. 

And God is strong to save. 

But things eternal while I'm here 

Are present to my view. 
In such a way they make me fear, 
* And greatly tremble too. 

I seem to see One on a cloud, 
With banners bright unfurl' d — 

With trumpets sounding long and loud, 
Coming to judge the world. 



THE CEMETERY. 

I seem to see the tears still shed 

In thousand dwellings round, 
By kindred weeping o'er their dead, 

Now resting in this ground. 

I seem to hear the wailing strains 

Of many more, who soon 
Will pass away, in dying pains, 

To moulder in the tomb. 

These corpses lately, one and all, 

Were moving on the earth, 
But now they sleep, the great and small, 

Each in its lonely berth. 

The storms may thunder o'er their heads 

The lightnings play around, 
But this will not disturb their beds, 

Nor wake their sleep profound. 

The busy day is almost pass'd — 

I see the setting sun; 
The evening shade is falling fast. 

The people's work is done. 

They soon will sleep, all silent sleep 

The lonely night away, 
And lay, in solemn darkness, hid 

Until the break of day. 

So what of time remaineth yet 
For us, will soon be o'er— * 

Our sun of life will quickly set 
And we'll be here no more. 

Lo, then we'll slumber, side by side, 
Deep in the silent dust; 



217 



218 THE CEMETERY. 

All that have gone before have died- 
All that come after must. 

I need not ask, Why must we die — 
Why yield to such a doom? 

Transgression brings mortality, 
Sin lays us in the tomb. 

But did not Shiloh, in our stead, 
' Descend into the grave. 

And sleep himself among the dead, 
A guilty world to save? 

]S'o angel minds can penetrate 

This mighty mystery; 
'Tis higher than the heavenly state- 

'Tis deeper than the, sea. 

Had I the heavens at my command 
For thousand thousand years, 

Or could I govern with my hand 
The mighty rolling spheres! 

Had I ten thousand lives to live 
In holy works and ways — 

Had I ten thousand hearts to give 
In holy love and praise ! 

I'd give them all without delay, 

To be forever thine; 
And thousand more, if but I may, 

Blest Savior! call thee mine. 

O could I die in thine embrace — 
. ...Reclining on thy breast, : 
Not creatures of auvangel race 
Could be so sweetly blest. 



SCENES OF SINAI AND THE LAST DAT. 219 

No fears, no cares, could me annoy; 

I'd calm resign my breath, 
And lose all fear amid the joy 

Of such a happy death. 



SCENES OF SINAI AND THE LAST DAY. 

Beneath the dark impending cloud, 

Which cover'd Sinai's hill. 
Was heard a trumpet sounding loud, 

And loud and louder still. 

The raging tempest gather'd fast, 

The mount was red with flame, 
And when one mighty roar was past, 

Another mightier came. 

The trembling tribes, which on that day 

Stood near and heard the roar. 
At hearing once, besought that they 

Might never hear it more. 

It shook creation far and near. 

It shook the solid ground. 
It fell so dreadful on the ear 

No one could bear the sound. 

But while they stood aghast and heard 

These sounds terrific roll- 
While every fear within was stirr'd 

And trembIing*Berzed the soul; 



220 SCENES OF SINAI AND THE LAST DAY. 

'Twas but a feeble warning given, 

To let them timely know 
What mightier sounds will break from Heaven, 

When Judgment trumpets blow. 

The flames which burn upon that day 

Will never burn again, 
The earth and heav'ns consum'd, will lay 

In smold'ring ashes then. 

The waves that dash on every shore 

(Now wrapt in burning fire J 
Will make their last loud, mighty roar, 

Then suddenly expire. 

Black tempests, in their wildest forms, 

Will sweep o'er sea and land. 
And tear creation with such storms 

As nothing can withstand. 

One last loud thunder peal will break 

Above each rising hill, 
The trembling earth to atoms shake, 

Then all be calm and still. 

Amid the vast unbounded waste, 

Those sleeping in the clay 
Will rise and to the Judgment haste 

Upon that hurning day. 

The Great Jehovah, Lord of Hosts, 

Will straight divide between 
The good and bad, the sav'd and lost, 

And this will end the scene. 



DYING christian's FAREWELL. 321 



DYIXG CHRISTIAN'S FAREWELL. 

Farewell, thou bright, effulgent sun, 

The glory of the skies, 
Long have thy beams in brightness shone 

To bless my mortal eyes. 
I'm going where a brighter sun 

Illumes the boundless sphere, 
Than that ("a mere created one^ 

Which shines refulgent here. 

Farewell, thou waxing, waning moon — 

Ye twinkling stars of light — 
Ye glitt'ring splendors of the noon, 

And darkness of the night, 
I'm going where I'll be a star. 

And shine with fadeless raj'^, 
In an eternal world afar, 

Where all is perfect day. 

Farewell, ye fountains of the deep — 

Ye murmuring streams that flow — 
Ye howling winds which fiercely sweep 

Through all this world below. 
I'm going where the stream of life 

Flows pure forever more; 
No winds engag'd in angry strife, 

Beat on that heavenly shore. 

Farewell, ye mountains, rising high 
Above the ground we tread — 

Ye rattling thunders of the sky, 
Which fill my soul with dread. 



223 DYING chkistian's farewell. 

I'm going to Iminanuel's ground, 
Where all is bright and fair; 

There are no tempests gath'ring round, 
Nor thunders rattling there. 

Farewell, ye seas immense, sublime, 

Ye mighty waves that roll 
Far to the shores of every clime, 

And sweep from pole to pole. 
I'm going where there's no more sea, 

And no more dread, nor pain — 
No ships in fearful jeopardy, 

Toss'd on the stormy main. 

My native country, fare thee well! 

Thou art most dear to me, 
Great land where all my kindred dwell-, 

Sweet land of liberty. 
I'm going where the Angels sing — 

Where trees immortal stand — 
Where beauties of eternal Spring 
^ Spread o'er the blissful land. 

Farewell, ye sunny banks and braes, 

Ye shady trees and bowers, 
Ye birds that warble sweetest lays 

'Mid Spring and Summer hours. 
I leave you, but I go to dwell 

In worlds far out of sight, 
Along with great Immanuel, 

In endless blaze of light. 

Farewell, my dwelling place on earth — 
Ye chambers where I've laid — 



DYING christian's FAREWELL. 223 

Ye play-grounds where I've had my mirth, 

And closets where I've pray'd. 
I'm going to the spirit world, 

"Where mortal never trod — 
A world enduring as the soul — 

The dwelling place of God. 

Farewell, ye groves, I'm done with you — 

Farewell, thou verdant lawn! 
My days on earth are now but few, 

I'm waiting to be gone. 
I think I see a golden crown 

Held out from yonder skies; 
I long to lay this body down. 

And fly and take the prize. 

I leave my body, soon to die. 

Old graveyard, in thy care; 
Through rolling years of time 'twill He 

Reposing sweetly there. 
It is with joy I lay my dust 

To moulder in the clay; 
The ground will keep the sacred trust 

Safe till the Judgment day. 

Then my Almighty, Heavenly Friend, 

Will bid that dust arise, 
And I'll triumphantly ascend 

To meet Him in the skies. 
And there, amid the boundless bliss, 

I'll sing through endless days; 
Mine is the perfect happiness. 

And His shall be the praise. 



REFLECTIONS 

ON THE WAYS OF MANKIND. 



Truth and humor, and "more trutli than poetry." 

1. Diversion. 

2. The Mind Neglected. 

3. Novelty of the Times. 

4. Female Beauty without and with Sense 
OP Mind. 

5. The Termagant. 

6. Unbridled Tongue. 

7. Hangman's Day. 

8. The Inebriate. 

9. The Country Kighted. 

10. Young America. 

11. The Fanatic. 
13. Self Conceit. 

13. The Lunatic. 

14. Sabbath Breakers. 

15. The Lucre Mania. 

16. The Man of Honor. 

17. enterrrise and magnanimity. 



DIVERSION. 

Sometimes we must recur to fun, 
When knowledge is all spent, 

To do by this what can't he done 
By solid argument. 

The lawyers oft resort to sport, 

Assur'd it will prevail, 
To sway the members of the court 

When other things all fail. 

The clergymen try anecdote; 

With them it mostly rests 
To tell what witty authors wrote, 

To entertain their guests. 

Such anecdote at proper time. 

And happily select, 
(Especially when put in rhyme) 

Will have a fine efiect. 

Some will have fun at all expense. 

Whatever may befall; 
They'll have it with, or without sense. 

Just any way at all. 

It seems to me, unless we must 

In some compulsive way, 
Raise up a smoking, choking dust^ 

We'd better let it lay. 



228 THE MIND NEGLECTED. 

'Tis SO witli ill-timed jest and joke 

In poetry or prose; 
It mostly takes effect on mind 

As smoke affects the nose. 

'Tis sore indeed to be compell'd 
To liear for twenty years, 

The tamest things incessantly 
Repeated in our ears. 

Say, can we entertainment find 

In tales for ages told ? 
They once could interest the mind, 

But now they're quite too old. 

What's been repeated o'er and o'er, 

A simpleton can tell; 
But it requires a man of lore 

To be original. 



THE MIND NEGLECTED. 

'Tis sadly true, as all confess. 

We're growing fond of show and dress, 

And thus we stand affected — 
We seek in yain and foolish pride 
To decorate the outward side; 

The inward is neglected. 

Our appetites are far too strong. 
We eat too much, we eat too long. 

And this is a calamity; 
The mind is tortur'd every day, 



THE MIND NEGLECTED. 229 

And sick and pain'd, it pines away, 
And sinks to half insanity. 

We give ourselves too much to glee — 
To studied mirth and levity 

In this state of probation. 
We have no time for sober thought, 
Substantial things are little brought 

To our consideration. 

We tear our hands and tax the brain, 
We every nerve and muscle strain 

To gather vrordly treasure; 
But, tell me, when or where we'll find 
A man who cultivates the mind 

With equal care and pleasure. 

There's little here* that strangers see 
In city or vicinity, 

Which makes a good impression. 
The country round is far too rough, 
As farmers we're not neat enough. 

Nor chaste in our profession. 

The state of things on every side 
Shows want of culture, taste and pride, 

Kelating to improvements: 
We move too slow upon the stage, 
Hence falling quite behind the age 

In great, important movements. 

We must bring science to our aid, 
And show from hence we're not afraid 
Of books; for here's the fact. Sir, 



•Reference to parts of the land where people are strangely adverse 
to Improyements. 



230 NOYELTY OF THE TIMES. 

If we would serve the cliurcli or State, 
We must get knowledge In tlie pate 
And learn first how to act, Sir. 



NOYELTY OF THE TIMES. 

'Tis strange indeed, surpassing strange, 
The way that mortals do; 

Times, manners, feelings, all things change- 
There' s ever something new. 

It seems to me we've come to be 
Like Satyrs in their dances. 

We spend the night in revelry, 
And sleep while day advances. 

There was a time when old folks talk'd, 

And young folks loved to hear them; 
But children do the talking now 

And great men must revere them. 
Society's improving fast, 

("Alas, how long it tarried, j 
The olden day has pass'd away 

And labies now get married. 

The gentry wear such fuzzy stuff 

Around their mouth and chin. 
We're puzzled quite to know the way 

They get their luncheon in. 
These men of fashion, North and South, 

(As Brownlow, taunting, said^ 
Have more of wool about their mouth 

Than hair upon their head* 



NOVELTY OF THE TIMES. 

Like bunchy things the ladies spread, 

Wide sweeping as they go, 
They've precious little on their head 

But plenty down below. 
The dress won't do without the trail, 

(There's one to every flirt,) 
Which like the serpent's wagging tail, 

Goes dragging in the dirt. 

We're crazy -like, and wild as loons, 

Men, women, children, all; 
The woman-kind wear pantaloons, 

The men put on the shawl. 
Alack-a-day! the times have chang'd 

("Except with very few;) 
That most of mankind are derang'd, 

Is plain from what they do. 

I hate to see a people give 

Themselves to form and fashion. 
Until a vile fastidiousness 

Becomes the ruling passion. 
In such a case the high and low 

Both spend their time in fooling; 
It always has and will be so. 

When mind like this is ruling. 

'Tis sad to think how false we are, 

What madness must possess us. 
To leave the good of life afar 

And take the bad to bless us. 
But so the fact has always been 

In every age and nation. 
That those who've long indulg'd in sin 

Are deaf to reformation. 



232 FEMALE BEAUTY, ETC. 



FEMALE BEAUTY WITHOUT AND WITH 
SENSE OF MIND. 

Mere "beauty is a worthless thing, 
It fades away like flowers of spring, 

And leaves no trace behind; 
Then those who for effect rely 
On such a trifling vanity. 

Have little sense of mind. 

Yet numbers make it all their pride, 
And seek no other store, beside 

Some outward charms and graces; 
They raise their crested bonnets high, 
And hope to find each wand'ring eye 

Reposing on their faces. 

Alas! how vain such fair ones be! 
If we would only beauty see, 

Let's gaze on other creatures; 
The linnet, bee and butterfly. 
Are quite as pleasing to the eye ^ 

As handsome maiden's features. 

Prithee, behold the pearls and gems 
Which glitter in bright diadems. 

And tell me, if you please. 
What mingled beauties rich and rare, 
Are found upon a lady fair. 

To be compar'd with these? 

Behold yon tints of beauteous hue — 
Of red and yellow, pink and blue, 
Oft pictur'd on the sky, 



THE TEKMAGAKT. 233 

And tell me, what on human face 
There is of finest form and grace 
So charming to the eye. 

How false and fulsome it is, then, 
For courtiers vain and flatt'ring men 

To speak the fair one's praises, 
In fustian style where naught is found 
But pompous words and empty sound, 

And pure bombastic phrases. 

Yet beauty join'd with wisdom'' s grace 
Does well become a lady's face, 

And makes her worth a king. 
Let ornament in woman be 
Combin'd with sense and piety, 

And she^s a comely tiling. 



THE TERMAGANT. 

Shall woman, taken from the side 
Of man, to be his lovely bride — 
Shall she that's form'd so sweet a. thing, 
To bless and comfort, smile and sing, 
Attempt with dread tyrannic sway 
To rule the man from day to day? 
this will nevei\ never do, 
''Tis neither holy, just, nor true. 

May she, not thinking once of harm, 
Take charge herself of field and farm- 
Presume to manage goats and flocks, 
The frantic horse, the stubborn ox, 



234 THE TERMAGANT. 

And venture thus to play the man, 
Whene'er she will, whene'er she can? 
this will never ^ never do^ 
' Tis neither holy^ just^ nor true. 

m 

Without a husband for a guide — 
Without a brother by her side, 
May she go roving far away 
And mix with strangers every day, 
And so proceed from place to place 
With restless mind and brazen face? 
this will never, never do, 
' Tis neither holy, just, nor true. 

May she, unless commander chief, 
In everything sit down in grief. 
And bold declare she's not been used 
To be oppress' d, to be abus'd; 
And thus indulge in freaks and taunts, 
Until we give her all she w^ants? 
this will never, never do, 
' Tis neither holy, just, nor true. 

Shall she that's call'd an angel, be 
A monster in humanity — 
Shall she on ruin madly bent 
Become a wretched termagant, 
And oft with pelting strokes and noise, 
Combat the stoutest men and boys? 
this idUI never, never do, 
''Tis neither holy, just, nor true. 

The sacred books throughout declare 
If woman would be woman fair, 
She must be mild as summer day, 



THE TERMAGANT. 335 

And put her frantic tricks away. 
She must be gentle, cliaste and kind, 
To peace and order strict inclin'd. 
And then in view of all she'll be 
A form of bright humanity. 

That is a happy country when 
Kegard for the relation. 
Between the women and the men 
Is had in every station. 
Both acting wisely in their place — 
The fathers and the mothers 
Will make a blessed rising race 
Of sisters and of brothers. 

When virtue in the female mind 
Appears in light and beauty. 
The other sex will feel inclin'd 
To right perform their duty. 
But 'tis conceded every where, 
The Misses and the Matrons 
(Of all that's amiable and fair) 
Must be the standing patrons. 

The comely woman makes the man, 

The careful man the nation, 

And this is God's adopted plan 

To regulate creation. 

But when the men must take the lead 

In all the softer graces. 

Then 'tis a sad affair indeed 

To male and female races. 



235 UNBRIDLED TONGUE. 



UNBRIDLED TONGUE. 

You see that skimming airy kite 
Which soars without a wing, 

It owes the dangers of its flight 
To too great length of string. 

So with the tongue in either sex, 
Both men and angels know 

It chiefly owes its bad efiects 
To lengths we let it go. 

It is a buzzing, busy thing. 

More busy than the bee — 
It is a noisy, restless thing, 

More restless than the sea. 

Now it takes up a lengthen' d tale 

About some doleful dream, 
The Banshee with its dismal wail, 

Or ghost that's nightly seen. 

Then straight it tells of other days — 
Of mighty works and men — 

Of things so wonderful, indeed, 
They ne'er can be again. 

There is a fire, all dread and dire, 

It kindles round about. 
And men and beasts and birds will tire 

Ere they can put it out. 

Celestia was a pretty maid, 

And often sweetly sung. 
But while she lived, It was her trade* 

To slander with her tongue. 



UNBRIDLED TONGUE. 337 

Lucinda gabbles like a hen, 

And races like a hare; 
Whate'er she hears she tells again 

And spreads it everywhere. 

She is the tattler of the town, 

And wears out many shoes 
In running swiftly up and down, 

And telling all the news. 

Clarissa lifts her voice so high 

When she's in earnest speaking, 
The howling tempest passing by 

Can scarcely drown her squeaking. 

You see that leaf upon the tree. 

Wild flying in the air, 
Which, though it flutters fitfully, 

Still keejDS its stem-hold there! 

'Tis so with man's unbridled tongue, 

The nimblest thing we find. 
Though loosely on a pivot hung, 

Yet keeps its hold behind. 

The flippant thing moves fast, indeed. 

And keeps on all the day, 
But while it runs with light' ning speed, 

It never runs away. 

Thou mussy, fussy, pussy tongue ! 

What shallbe done with thee ? 
'Twixt nose and chin thou hast been hung 

And there we'll let thee be. 



•Th© business Bh« wrought'at. 



238 HANGMAN'S DAY. 



HANGMAN'S DAY. 

There is a day for miglity sport — 

For general recreation, 
When gravest memhers of the court, 

And men of every station 
Come forth to have a wild foray, 

Upon the merry Hangman:' s Day.^ 

The hoards attending at the schools. 

The polish' d classic scholar, 
The busy folks, the idle fools. 

The man that loves his dollar, 
(A handsome wager here I lay) 

Will all be out on Hangman'' s Day. 

The jolly farmer quits the plough. 

The nursing wife the cradle, 
The milk-man leaves his dairy now, 

The butter maid her ladle. 
And off they go, all light and gay. 

To sing and dance on Hangman's Day. 

Aunt Jennie buys herself new shoes. 

Aunt Katie gets a bonnet, 
And Mary, Maggie, Sal, and Suse, 

Are all intent upon it, 
To make a very grand display 

Upon the joyful Hangman'' a Day. 

Grandmothers, with a vacant stare, 
And sweet and pretty lasses. 



*A Mt at public executions and the custom of all sexes and classes 
assembling to witness them. -- 



hangman's day. 239 

And rosy maids, will all be there, 

Close mingling with the masses. 
They joyful come, they mirthful stay, 

Hurrahing on the Hangman'' s Day. 

The girls and boys of every age. 

The merchant and the miller, 
The politician, saint and sage, 

The heartless old distiller. 
Be it September, March, or May, 

Will sure be out on Hangman'' s Day. 

Should all the sky be overcast 

With tempests loudly roaring — 
Should floods of rain come falling fast 

In mighty torrents pouring. 
Yet still they'll come to sport and play. 

And shout and sing on Hangman'' s Day. 

Seel how they gather like a cloud, 

And rush with bursts of laughter. 
Some leading on the noisy crowd 

And others following after; 
A rich carouse we'll have, they say. 

Upon this jolly Hangman^s Day. 

No matter what the time may be — 

No matter what the season — 
They'll not regard propriety — 

These men have lost their reason. 
'Tis all in vain to preach or pray. 

They'll have their sport on Hangman^ s Day. 

When mortals act devoid of thought 

And feeling, tpo^ in rneasure, 
Then gravest things are set at naught 



240 THE INEBRIATE. 

And turn'd to guilty pleasure. 
'Tis this wliicli oft prepares the "way 
For yet another Hangmaii^ s Day. 

Instead of wildly sporting now, 

I should be realizing 
How great the grace to me, and how 

Mysterious and surprising 
The hand that kept me, else I'd been 

The victim here instead of Him. 



THE INEBRIATE, 

There's scarce a creature that we see 

So fallen from his state — 
So much debas'd and vile, as the 

Confirm' d inebriate. 

How swollen, bloated, is his face — 

How foetid is his breath, 
A loathsome object of disgrace, 

Who fast approaches death. 

See! how he stammers, staggers, reels., 

And sallies as he goes! 
Sometimes he's whirling on his heels 

And sometimes on his toes. 

They seek him round his dear abode. 

But seek him in despair; 
He's fallen on the public road, 

And slumbers senseless there. 



THE COUlsTRY RIGHTED. 241 

For him tlie wakeful eye oft weeps— 

The bosom heaves its sigh, 
While there he lies and nightl}^ sleeps, 

And sleeps perhaps to die. 

This wretched man once went to school 

And learn'd to write and read, 
But O! he's now a mighty fool, 

A very brute indeed. 

His heart has grown as hard as steel — 

His soul is steep' d in sin. 
No power on earth can make him feel 

The deep disgrace he's in. 

But onward in his crimes he goes, 

A public plague and curse; 
Now subject to a thousand woes, 

And daily growing worse. 

What shall this toper's title be? 

Come tell us if you can I 
A heartless beast, a swine is he, 

And all things but a man. 



THE COUNTRY RIGHTED. 

I love to see my countrymen 
Conduct like sons and brothers; 

If some would have right done to them, 
To do the same to others. 

Without it mischief's in the mind. 
Pure malice in the feeling, 



242 THE COUNTRY RIGHTED. 

And we're a host Of knaves combin'd 
To live by fraud and stealing. 

'Tis sad vt^lien madmen in affray 

Set horrid war to going, 
Not thinking all the while that they 

The seeds of death are sowing. 
They'll never fight themselves, at all, 

But seize upon some stranger. 
And make him bear the pain and toil, 

While they keep out of danger. 

When tyrants fall, the masses sing — 

There's joy among the people; 
If it were meet, the bells would ring 

Aloud from every steeple. 
All through this land at midnight hours, 

While millions round are sleeping. 
Fond mothers o'er their fallen sons 

Are long a bitter weeping. 

Time was when glory, like a flood, 

Spread o'er this happy nation, 
But now its soil is stain' d with blood 

And spread with desolation. 
that an angel from the skies 

Would, at some favor' d season. 
Descend, and to our sweet surprise, 

Restore us to our reason. 

Come, let us, as a nation, stand 
With hearts and hands united; 

If dreadful wrongs are in the land, 
Oh! let them soon be righted. 



T0UN6 AMERICA. 243 

Methinks the Sovereign Judge will send 

Some vengeful strokes of thunder, 
To smite the men who dare to rend 

And keep these States asunder. 

Upon the coming wrathful day, 

May gracious heav'n forbid it, 
That I should hear my Maker say, 

*' 'Twas you, vile wretch, that did it." 
The dire offence indeed has come, 

But oh! the men who brought it, 
May be to endless years undone, 

Though they have little thought it. 



YOUNG AMERICA. 

With buoyant spirits tow'ring high. 
Our gallant youth resolved to try 
What they could do, all blithe and gay, 
To newly shape America. 

They felt that they were brave and strong, 
And hence agreed to drive along. 
At rapid, yea, at furious rate, 
The gallant moving Ship of State. 

With recklessness, and joy, and glee, 
They launch 'd upon a dangerous sea, 
And dash'd ahead, impetuous there. 
With all their sails spread to the air. 



244 YOUNG AMERICA. 

Without a proper lielm to guide 
The vessel through the rolling tide — 
With light freight on, they sped so swift, 
The brave old schooner went adrift. 

The youngsters, fill'd with sore affright, 
Now set to work with all their might 
The tide and tempest to withstand, 
And bring the vessel back to land. 

But all their efforts were in vain — 
She struck on rocks and broke in twain; 
Some wept, some utter' d piercing wails, 
But all agreed to reef the sails. 

They tried to stay each falling mast. 
Perceiving now they'd mov'd too fast. 
And all exclaiming o'er and o'er, 
" We'd'better, boys, have stay'd on shore.' 

The workmen came, and fore and aft, 
Toil'd hard to mend the broken craft, 
But all without the least effect — 
She was a vessel sorely wreck' d. 

Thus ended the experiment 
Of youngsters, in their merriment, 
Attempting proudly in their day 
To newly shape America. 

When we^ve all Idafn^d to tfedi with care 
The heritage, so bright and fair, 
Our father s^ guin^d at greater cokt^ 
WeHl save the pri^efrom being lost. 



THE FANATIC. 245 



THE FANATIC. 

He's always a debater, 

But seldom in the right — 
A frantic agitator — 
He's at it day and niglit. 
He rushes on, by frenzy led, 
Where better men have fear'd to tread. 

He's just as blind a creature 

As if he had no eyes, 
Whoe'er may be his teacher, 
'Tis vain to make him wise. 
A single thought reigns in his mind. 
To all beside he's deaf and blind. 

He thinks he's just and holy, 

And hence the man, forsooth, 
To judge, and do it solely, 
Of righteousness and truth. 
Great Solomon himself must yield. 
While this conceit is in the field. 

Instead of growing milder 

Beneath the chast'ning rod, 
This man's becoming wilder, 
And more estrang'd from God. 
The chastisement, however sore. 
Makes him more frantic than before. 

He drives along in fury, 
With frenzy on his brain, 



246 THE FANATIC. 

The statute, judge, and jury. 
Are treated with disdain. 
All former things — all works and laws 
He tramples down to gain his cause. 

With zeal that's fiery burning, 

And recklessness as great, 
This wretch is overturning 
The pillars of the State. 
To save the country, by and by 
We'll hear the startling battle cry. 

If you begin to reason. 

He squirms and seems to be 
Held writhing for a season 
In dreadful agony. 
Then stern he'll look and fiercely cry, 
*' Vile creature, you deserve to die." 

Above what God has written 

He's seeking to be wise; 
A man that's folly-stricken. 
And as such, lives and dies. 
Try all the arts that mortals can, 
'Tis hopeless to reform this man. 

Could we, in faith abiding, 

Just take the Book Divine, 
And read (the Spirit guiding) 
With meekness every line. 
How soon 'twould fill the mind with light, 
And set what's wrong in mortals right. 



SELF-CONCEIT. 347 



SELF-CONCEIT. I 

Two men were standing in their pride, 

And talking loud together, 
About the stormy wind and tide, i 

And changes of the weather. 

The one aflarm'd that he could see, I 

Three days before its coming, j 

When rain, descending rapidly, I 

Would set the streams to running. \ 

The other turn'd himself around 

(His name was Morgan Blucher) 
And quaintly ask VI, " Is man profound 

Enough to know the future?'' ! 

Then to his friend he promptly said, 

In fitful mood of laughter: 
'' I've only know^ledge in my head | 

To tell it the day after." 

This done, they quickly climb'd the fence, 

And from each other parted, 
The one a man of common sense, 

The other simple-hearted. j 

A person empty as the wind i 

(But vastly self-conceited; j 

May not indeed have grossly sinn'd, ^ 
Yet can't be kindly treated. 

He's not, forsooth, a braying mule, 
But comes so near unto it, 



248 THE LUNATIC. 

If there's a way to play tlie fool, 
He's almost sure to do it. 

Wlien one comes up in self-conceit, 
And shows it in each feature, 

I'll freely* any madman meet, 
But not this noisome creature. 

1 love a truly modest man. 

Who scorns all bold assumption. 

And says and does the best he can. 
Apart from mere presumi)tion. 

Instead of false self-confidence, 

And vain attempts at knowing, 
He trusts a careful Providence 
To regulate his going. 



THE LUXATIC. 



As I was standing by the walk 

The other day at noon, 
I heard two men engag'd in talk 

About the mystic moon. 
You know, said one, that magic orb 

Has such amazing power, 
We must be govern' d by its signs 

To prosper for an hour. 

Unless the moon points with its horn 

Directly to the sky, 
'Twill be in vain to plant the corn — 

The stalks will wilt and die. 



THE LUIsATIC. 349 

If "we attempt to make the fence 

Exempt from lunar aid, 
'Twill be of little consequence, 

The whole must be new made. 

Go plant a hill of Lima beans, 

(It may seem strange and droll,) 
But if it's done in wu-ong of moon 

They'll not run up the pole. 
If we presume to make the hay, 

Regardless of the moon, 
'Twill shrink and shrivel all away, 

And go to nothing soon. 

Unless the sign ("whene'er a child 

Is born^ be in the head, 
'Twill live a brainless, senseless thing. 

And better far be dead. 
So on he went, referring still 

To other things as true 
About that magic orb, until 

He^d told his story tlirough. 

The other listened with a smile. 

Then spread his eyelids wide, 
And in a quaint sarcastic style 

To these remarks replied: 
The eye's the door through.which we peep, 

The window of the mind, 
Must not the sign be there to keep 

The child from being blind? 

Must not the sign be in the feet 
When one comes on this ball, 



350 THE SABBATH BKEAKKiiS. 

Or otherwise he'll all be leg, 
And have no feet at all. 

Must not the sign be in the neck 
(You need not look demure,) 

When sinful man is born^ or else 
He'll die by hanging sure. 

The worst by far of all effects, 

Which are now or can be 
Made by that orb on either sex, 

Is dreadful lunacy. 
To your philosophy, dear friend, 

I answer plain and quick. 
If you on things like these depend. 

Your half a lunatic. 

Why should we to some planet look 

To guide our doubtful ways, 
But fail to read God's Holy Book, 

And give him proper praise. 
Delusion ne'er can help the mind, 

But truthful science can; 
WJioever to the ligliVs incUn^d^ 

True light will guide that man. 



THE SABBATH BREAKERS. 

Some youthful heroes late conven'd 

Beneath a shady tree, 
And there discours'd, in words like these, 

About their liberty: 



THE SABBATH BKEAKERS. 251 

Must we toil on thi-ough all the week 

Unceasingly, said they, 
And not an hour of pleasure seek 

Upon the Sahbath day? 

Why should the angry heavens forbid 

Us, thus to sport and play? 
We do just what our fathers did 

When they were young and gay. 
Our fathers! they were honest men, 

Renowned for sober sense; 
So what they did, we'll do again, 

Nor fear the consequence. 

]S'o matter what the prophets said — 

No matter what they taught. 
As they have long and long been dead, 

It all must go for naught. 
The Bible once had binding force — 

To it men had to bow; 
But as it's old, it can't of course 

Restrict our freedom now. 

If we are wrong, may heaven forgive 

Such sinners as we be. 
But 'tis our purpose while we live, 

To take this liberty. 
TeSy yeSy proceed and take your fun — 

You'' II have your suff Wings too; 
When future days of reckoning come^ 

TheyHl come with stripes for you. 



253 THE LUCEE MANIA. 



THE LUCRE MANIA. 

There is an evil, sore indeed, 
From which our country must be freed. 
Or all will come to pressing need- 
It is the rage for money. 

There was a time when virtue ruled — 
When men in this were nobly schooled, 
Nor could they then, at all, be fool'd 
With paltry stuff like money. 

This priceless virtue now is dead — 
Our wisdom too has almost fled. 
And men and boys are captive led 
To sordid love of money. 

They think it well to be refin'd — 
To have a staid and lofty mind, 
But thousand times would rather find 
Some way to get the money. * 

To read the word, to sing and pray 
And act the christian part each day, 
Is excellent, these people say, 

But nothing to the money. 

They speak of training noble youth — 
* They speak of justice, goodness, truth. 
But all with them is naught, forsooth, 
Except the getting money. 

They talk about religion, too; 
But all of this they ever knew, 



THE LUCEE MANIA. 253 

(If what the prophets said be true J 
Consists in hoarding money. 

There's nothing, nothing to be found, 
Through all the vast creation round, 
That makes so sweet and soothing sound 
To certain men, as money. 

They'll sell their right of home and birth. 
They'll sell the best things on the earlli, 
And heaven itself, with all its worth, 
In mad pursuit of money. 

They'll search the murky mountain cave, 
They'll even ransack tomb and grave. 
And play the rascal and the knave 
Anon, to get the money. 

They think it's so with other men — 
That all will do the same things, when 
A fit occasion's offer' d them. 
For artful speculation. 

And have we not some ground to fear, 
If traitor Arnold now were here, 
He'd laugh to see so many near 
Akin to him in av'rice? 

Of old there lived a dastard Jew, 
Who sold his Friend and Saviour too, 
For thirty pieces (very few) 

Of shining silver money. 

He would no word, no warning heed, 
But took the bribe, perform' d the deed. 



354 THE LUCKE MANIA. 

And made the great Messiali bleed 
To gratify his passion. 

We weep to hear Immanuel tell 
How deep in woe one Dives fell, 
Because he lov'd so long and well 
His darling, darling money. 

Oh! misery dreadful! madness great! 
That man should make himself a mate 
To Belial's crew, then take their fate 
In death and hell, for money. 

But yet we've men enough tlds day. 
If things be as reporters say, 
Who'll barter soul and all away 
For trifling sums of money. 

Great sin! no pen, however free, 
Employ' d in writing history, 
Gives such a bad account of thee 

As that which wrote the Bible. 

Bad, bad thou art, as seers have told — 
Bad everjrvphere, in young and old — 
But worst of all in that strong hold 
Thou hast on Christian people. 

And have all men become so poor 
In nobler thoughts, there is no cure 
For it, but we must long endure 
The workings of the evil? 

O 'tis exceeding hard to know. 
While actors in this world below, 



THE MAN OP HONOR. 255 

Just how much time we may bestow 
On simply making money. 

But yet, metliiuks, 'tis harder still 
To bring the heart, and mind, and will, 
The Scripture precepts to fulfil, 
In justly using w,oney. 

To be a miser will not do; 
The wanton spendthrift's reckless too, 
And hence there are but very few 
Who fitly gauge this matter. 

To live and labor year by year. 
Devoted to the love and fear 
Of Him who puts and keeps us here, 
Will make us rightly use it. 

If we but feel it and believe 
That we should give as we receive. 
And by this prudent precept live. 
We'll surely not abuse it. 



THE MAN OF HONOR. 

Tlie man of honor ! Who is he ? 
The man, in full, who'll never be. 
At home, abroad, or anywhere. 
Connected with a mean afiair. 

T?ie man of honor ! Who is he ? 
The man who will not, cannot see 



356 THE MAN OF HONOR. 

The just condemn' cl, the weak oppress'd, 
And leave them suff ring unredress'd. 

The man of honor I Who is he ? 
The man who can't be made to flee 
When danger comes, but must and will 
Be true to trust and duty still. 

TJie man of honor I Who is he 1 
The man who knows no perfidy — 
Who keeps his word at all expense, 
And cares not for the consequence. 

The man of honor I Who is he f 
The man that scorns all bribery, 
Who can't be rul'd, or bought, or sold, 
With paltry stuff like shining gold. 

The man of honor I Wlio is he ? 
The man of faithful memory, 
Who bears in mind, from day to day, 
What he's engag'd to keep or pay. 

The man of honor I Wlio is he f 
The man of fixed integrity — 
The man who will do all things well — 
The man throughout of principle. 

The man of honor ! Who is he f 

The man of well-tried piety — 

The man who treads where prophets trod- 

The man who fears and honors God. 

One thinks that he is doing well 
To liye deyoid of principle; 



ENTERPRISE AND MAGNANIMITY. 257 

He simply seeks to gain his cause, 
Without regard to men or laws. 

A man like this, I've always thought, 
"Will in his tricks at length be caught; 
A pupil, trained in Belial's school. 
Will own himself at last a fool. 



ENTERPRISE AND MAGNANIMITY. 

I hate to see a people blind, 

While they suppose they're sage. 
In fondly keeping far behind 

The movements of the age. 
I hate to see a people slow. 

While they are hale and strong; 
Refusing all their lives to go. 

Unless they're forc'd along. 

I love to see men wide awake, 

And bright, and brave, and free, 
Who show in all they undertake, 

Great magnanimity. 
I love to see a people just 

And true to all their laws; 
Who do the right because they must, 

In honor to the cause. 

We ne'er can rule by money power — 
We ne'er can rule by might; 

We must be honest every hour, 
And simply rule by right. 



358 THE GUIDE OF HUMAN LIFE. 

If we attempt it otherwise 
Than in this truthful way, 

We'll lose the favor of the skies, 
And bitter rue the day. 

I love to read the history 

Of men of noble souls — 
Whose noble daring, noble deeds, 

Are writ on deathless scrolls. 
My Country! (glorious all around,) 

How happy would I be 
If men like these could still be found. 

To guide and govern thee. 



THE GUIDE OF HUMAN LIFE. 

Some look to reason in the mind of man 

To first suggest, then govern, every plan 

Which we must use, consulting time and place, 

To shape the conduct of the human race. 

But, from experience, sages gravely own 

Dependence on this power and this alone; 

Has signal fail'd to give complete success 

To plans designed for human happiness. 

Some look to conscience^ chief within the soul, 

To exercise a fixed and stern control 

O'er all the thoughts and feelings of the mind, 

And, through them, shape the conduct of mankind. 

But while this scheme's been tried and tried again. 

It always has and will be tried in vain — 

The moral sense, however deep and strong, 



THE GUIDE OF HUMAN LIFE. . 359 

Can ne'er secure our race from going wrong. 
Some look to vague tradition Chanded down, 
Through ages long, from father to the son,^ 
To guide their laboring minds and actions right, 
Not less in man's than in Jehovah's sight. 
But this has fail'd far oft'ner and far more. 
Than both the plans we've spoken of before. « 
To lead men safely to those righteous ends. 
On choice of which true happiness depends, 
The Word of God, forever wise and true, 
Is giv'n— a light to safely guide us through 
Those ways of life, from dang'rous error free, 
Which lead to bliss and long prosperity. 
If we with wanton mind and perverse heart. 
Contemptuous from this perfect guide depart, 
We'll go, as many thousands go, astray — 
First leave our guide, then lose our prosp'rous way. 



EXPLANATION. 



When the author obtained his own consent to publish 
this little book of poems, he began to examine his manu- 
scripts and make selections for the purpose. In doing this, 
he threw certain portions together as constituting parts for 
the work, designating them by the regular numbers, and, 
at the same time, specifying the general themes and the 
particular subjects included in them. In this form they 
were handed to the publisher, and in this form they have 
appeared. They are not, therefore, the several parts of a 
whole subject, but the division parts of a book, as the con- 
tents annexed to them signify. This method is somewhat 
unusual, but it seems to the author preferable to the pub- 
lishing of them promiscuously and without any order, as 
is the case with poetic works of this kind generally. 

In addition to the plan thus adopted, a complete table of 
contents is given here at the close of the book. 



CONTENTS. 



The Eccentric Statesman 7 

The Murdered President 10 

Ode to Washington 17 

The Regiment that went for the Fee, &c 27 

Brave Stalwart Men 31 

Garibaldi and the Pope 33 

Secession and Civil War 39 

Christian Patriotism 42 

The Crowning Day 45 

Northern Adventures 52 

Well Meant to the Men of the South §5 

Union Song of Victory and Freedom 59 

Our National Flag 61 

National Honor 64 

Star of Hope 65 

No Country Like Ours 67 

Marching to and through the Desert 71 

Ode to Canaan 86 

Harp of Judah 91 

The Fall and Rising in Israel 93 

Watch Night in Goshen 97 

Watch Nights in Shushan 99 

Watch Night at Bethlehem 101 

Watch Night in Gethsemane 102 



263 CONTENTS. 

Watch Nights at the Sepulchre 103 

The Prisoners 105 

The Soul 107 

Address to the Sun 115 

Address to the Sun, continued 118 

The Sea 132 

The Sea, again .....135 

Perished Cities and Nations 138 

No Place Like Home 141 

The Happy Family '. 143 

Departed Ones 146 

The Willow Tree 148 

The Streamlet 153 

Youthful Days 154 

All Passing Away 155 

The Great House We Live In 163 

The Celestial City 165 

On This Side Heav'n 168 

True Happiness 171 

The One I Love Best 173 

The Christian Man 174 

The Bible 177 

My Mother 181 

The Arm Unseen 183 

Anchor Hold 185 

Up in Heav'n 187 

Alone in the Night 191 

The Day Spring and Commission 194 

The Great Awakening ofl858-59 197 

The Old and New Creations 300 

Joyful Singing 203 

The Pastor on Leaving his Charge .' 204 

Pastor's Farewell to his Study-Koom 206 

The Stranger's Visit 208 



CONTENTS. 263 

The Sower and the Seed 210 

The Old Sanctuary 211 

The Mouldering Bone 213 

The Cemetery 216 

Scenes of Sinai and the Last Day ..219 

Dying Christian's Farewell '... 221 

Diversion 227 

The Mind Neglected 228 

Novelty of the Times 231 

Female Beauty without and with Sense of Mind... 232 

The Termagant 233 

Unbridled Tongue 230 

Hangman's Day 238 

The Inebriate 240 

The Country Righted 241 

Young America 243 

The Fanatic 245 

Self-Conceit 247 

The Lunatic 248 

Sabbath Breakers 250 

The Lucre Mania 253 

The Man of Honor 255 

Enterprise and Magnanimity 257 

The Guide of Human Life 259 



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